That Girl's A Straight-Up Hustler
by suicideblonde99
Summary: You've heard of bad boy meets good girl, but what happens when the coin is flipped around and the bad girl meets good boy? When Jason meets Piper Mclean, Jason immediately knows she's trouble. She gets what she wants and she breaks what she gets, she's a player, she's everything he isn't. He lives by the rules, she did everything against it. But can he change the way she is? AU
1. Lost In Stereo

**I AM INSANE.**

**I have 2 fanfiction accounts, both of which have stories I am yet to update. Also, _Desire _is yet to be edited and fixed meanwhile I'm studying for my final end-of-year tests (I'm not American. I abide through the south's way of doing things).**

**And I'm writing a book. **

**YEAH.**

**The rating might change to M, because I was kinda shifty since the content is borderline M, but not graphic so...I'll put it on T momentarily, but if you guys think I need to change it, don't be afraid to voice it aloud. **

**Anyway, I got this idea from Wattpad (beautiful thing) and reading some badboy!Jason fics. I've noticed how Piper is _never _the 'bad one' always the 'Good Girl' so I flipped the switch around and tada! I don't know if it had been done before, but yeah, this fic contains bad girl Piper...and nerdy, kind of innocent ''goody" Jason (who's so adorkable to write about). **

**But I'm TESTING the waters. I haven't written the other chapters, but if this received a good reception I'll consider making it a full-length story.**

**Another reason for my mental anxiety...**

**Don't own anything!**

Chapter 1

Lost In Stereo

_Jason_

The Wilderness School was where all bad kids go to hell. And that was where I was heading, where Dad was sending me and where my sister's delinquent acts resulted in.

Now you might ask _Jason why are you going there?_ Good question. I have no fucking clue. Okay, I _did_ have a clue, but it was because _now_ I was starting to realize how this was probably one of my worst all my infamously however appallingly made decisions _ever. _And that itself takes the cake.

Staring at the imposing steel structure, it was the only form of civilization within the next forty miles of pure desert. This bus ride was pure proof that I would never survived in the Wilderness:

A) it's too fucking hot

B) I can't feel my legs

C) refer to A and B

My lips were chapped from the heat, no matter how much water I already drank, my glasses kept slipping down the slope of my sweaty nose and my shirt was stuck to my back like Scotchtape, slicked with sweat. _Gross. _

"Can you, um, turn up the AC?" I asked the driver, a stout man with mean eyes and a burly moustache. His entire weight made the leather seat sag in suffering. I'm so glad I'm not the chair.

"I don't take orders from kids in handcuffs," barked the driver and I slumped, defeated, tugging at the tight metal pressed around my wrist. The handcuffs bounded me to the hand railing of the bus, restricting me from taking a leak, or even standing up. As if that wasn't even enough justice for the laws of the United States, one lone guard was sleeping at the front seat with a rifle perched on his lap.

I'm _sixteen_, for Christ sake, it's not like I'm going to blow up the World Trade Centre.

Insensitive joke? Jeez, _take it easy_. Nine eleven was like a decade ago, it was time we start to laugh about it. I bit at the rough edges of my lip, causing blood to seep into my tongue. I glanced at the nearly empty water bottle at the seat next to me and unscrewed the cap, gulping the water, hoping it satisfied my thirst.

Not even a little bit.

Sighing, I leaned into my seat, remembering how I landed here in the first place.

It all started with some boys in my old private school. You see, it was an all boys school so there was bound to be trouble. Though it was private, they did all the wild things. Streaking through the fields, wild parties, smoking, drugs, all that shit, I never found myself sucked into _that _world. And I am usually not the troubled type, I did my best to avoid trouble because personally, my father would've slapped me from New York all the way to Greece if I ever did anything to potentially harm my image, or rather,_ his_ image. Because God Forbid, _another _Grace kid became a drug addict and a wannabe Lindsay Lohan.

Anyway, it was the end of the semester and everybody was in a party mood, typically. The exams were over, school was finishing- parties were part of the alma mater. But the thing is, I _hate_ parties. Never liked them before, didn't like them now. They're loud with obnoxious music and people 'so-called' dancing, twerking or whatever passed for it, filled with people slobbering and slurring and spilling their drinks 'accidentally' over your crotch (let's just say it was a hands-on experience), people passionately and shamelessly groping each other and possibly raping one another in front of my virgin eyes. Uh yeah, pass. I prefer to be mentally _sane. _I think I'll be fine in my room, cuddle up with a good autobiography of John Kennedy, and some Blink-182 playing in the background. But my roommate, Larry Podex, had insisted that I _'needed to get drunk and get laid_' and I had argued I was fine, and _um no thanks I don't want to get drunk, or laid by some chick I don't know_. Because I'm a value sort of guy. This was how the conversation went:

Larry: Jason, it'll be fun! Vodka,_ babes in shorts_, great music, and did I mention babes in shorts?

Me Yes, I heard you the first time. But it's not my thing, I told you, I rather just stay here and-

Larry: Masturbate in your pathetic abyss of loneliness? Sure, sounds like fun.

Me: I do not masturbate!

Larry: Bull-fucking-shit. I do it, you do it, everybody does it. Hell, I was jacking it last night.

Me: Last night?! I was in the fucking room! What do you mean-

Larry: The point is you're coming and I don't care if I have to carry you there with me.

Me: urghhhhhh

So yeah, I went anyways.

It wasn't _that_ bad, it was more of a nauseating, grotesque, hangover the next morning, regrets and _never again _kind of bad. Larry skived off to challenge his biggest rivals to naked beer pong (and that was a sight I'll never unsee ever again), I sulked into a corner, cradling my alcohol-free coke, willing to avoid anybody and everybody until some of the guys offered me a shot. I was too polite to decline, so I shrugged and took it. I mean, it was just _one_ shot of tequila, how drunk could I possibly get?

Yeah, you can probably guess what happened next.

The answer is that _yes_ I can get really really drunk and _yes, _I have no self-control whatsoever. I practically chugged down fifteen shots, pranced around like some asshole and was practically cavorting like a beast in repose. At some scale of the night, I ended up with a girl who was from the boarding school for girls just down the road. I think her name was Khione or whatever, and she offered me a joint. I should've said no, I really should've, but in my stupid however drunken state, I was like_ fuck it why not_ and smoke the weed as if there was no tomorrow. Pro-tip: Drunk Jason was not the smartest Jason, however, the most fun Jason.

Long story short, the police came, arrested everybody and caught me in the act with a staggering amount of marijuana and narcotics pumped in my system. Because I was underage and it was my first time, they let me off on probation. My dad, however, wasn't too chummy about it. He was shouting, well bottom line there was a lot of shouting, words like _disgrace to the family name_ and _if you were going do it, doing it discreetly_ was thrown in the mix, and for a form of punishment, my dad had creatively ended with the Wilderness School for it. Somehow he came up with the intelligent idea that if it worked for my sister, it worked for me.

It was just _one _joint of marijuana. And it wasn't even decent! And this was the _first _time!

But, despite my futile and completely _valid _arguments, it was final and now I'm here.

Just puts a fucking cherry on top of my day.

Pushing the crooked glasses up against my nose, I craned my head to take a look outside the window and felt my heart leap. There it is! I almost leap out into the bus aisle in excitement when the handcuffs pulled me back into my seat.

_Ouch._

* * *

I rubbed my wrists after being handcuffed to a pole for two miserable hours, then dragged my suitcase into the dorm 246, the one I've been assigned to, and dumped it on an unoccupied bed. I prayed for air-conditioning, _decent_ air conditioning, not some stupid Chinese knock off that blows air at a set temperature. The dorm was okay, nothing fancy. It looked more like a hospital room than a school dorm, with plain vinyl mattresses on two separate unpolished wooden bunks, two desks at each side of the room, white-coated walls and fluorescent lights. A drastic change from Legion Academy for Boys.

Running a hand through my sweat-dripped hair, I looked around for a shower, or a sink where I could splash some water on my face when a boy with wild, curly hair and dark eyes burst into my room. He was hauling a black and blue duffel bag through the doorway when I managed to sneak a better look at him. He stood at five foot eight, really short, barely at my shoulder, with a slim built and elfish ears. He lifted the duffel bag over his shoulder and threw it up onto the left bed, the one where I've put all my things, and it landed with a soft_ thump!_

"Move your shit, asshole."

"Excuse me?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yo, English much or do I have to say it in Spanish?"

"No, I understood," I said firmly, "I just didn't think you had the right to do that."

He raised an eyebrow. Yeah, I might be a bit quiet, and I'm certainly not the type that picks fights, but I ain't no pushover. "Look, newbie, I'm Leo Valdez and it's been proclaimed throughout the school that the left bunk is always my bunk. So, in short, move your_ fucking shit_."

"You could've just asked nicely-"

"It's the Wilderness School," he snorted, "Nobody actually do 'nice'. That's the first unofficial rule of the school."

"Bullshit."

"Well, _duh,_" he pointed out, "I specifically said unofficial or are you deaf as well stupid?"

I placed my fingers on my temples. "Circles. We're talking circles."

"No," he said sarcastically, "I thought we're discussing squares."

I could've possibly killed him in frustration. Breathing in and out, I told him like it was: "You're annoying."

Surprisingly, Leo's face split into a mischievous smile. "I think we haven't formally met. Leo Valdez, annoyingness at your service."

I laughed and nodded (that was cool, right? the nod?). "Jason Grace."

"Where you from?"

"San Francisco."

"The heat there is nothing compared here, huh?" he laughed as I profusely fanned my face.

"Yeah, is there an AC somewhere...?"

He held out a remote control and switched it on. Instantly, the room was moderately cooler, but only moderately.

"So what'd you do to end up in this hellhole?"

"Um," I scratched my head, "Got caught smoking marijuana."

He shook his head, a crooked very _Leo_ smile curling at his lips. "Amateur."

"It was my first time!" I protested, feeling defensive, strangely about this provocative subject such as smoking marijuana.

"Like I said, amateur."

"Anyway, my dad was being a pain in the neck all about it, so he saw this as a fitting punishment. Also, my sister is here….so…" I shrugged, leaving him to draw his own conclusions.

"Wait, a sister?"

"Yeah, Thalia. Thalia Grace."

His face lit up in recognition. "Hey, I knows Thals! You're her little brother?"

I nodded immediately, "Yep, that's me."

"Heh, cool. What a small fuckin' world."

He told me about how it was his fourth year in the Wilderness School and how his Aunt Rosa had sent him away to the Wilderness School because she didn't want to deal with him, how _nobody _wanted to deal with him. I tried not to feel sorry for him since he seemed like he didn't want any sympathy but I can't help but feel bad as he explained to me how his father left and his mother died in a freak fire accident, while I was entitled to an abundance of money and Leo obviously didn't have much. Despite the rudeness and blunt behaviour, Leo was actually alright. A tad corny, and I could do without the 'That's what she said' jokes but he was definitely fine.

Soon, at the rear end of our conversation, a bell clang, signalling the starting of an event. "Yes!" Leo jumped to his feet, "Time for Lunch!"

"Lunch?"

"Yeah, lunch. You know, the meal you eat…"

"I know what Lunch is."

"Good. Thought for a moment you might be dumber than Percy," Leo rubbed his hands together and his stomach growled in anticipation of food. My stomach rumbled at the thought of Lunch too. "Anyway, follow me. I'll let you meet the others."

_The others?_ My head spun. It was not that I never had friends, it's just that I never had close friends. Many of whom I knew were acquaintances where we share brief polite Hellos, never fist-bumps or anything remotely similar. Maybe here would be different, maybe I'll earn some friends, even possibly a girlfriend. Oh who was I kidding? This was the Wilderness School. I would be lucky if I could scrape through the week without being beat up by some bipolar underage delinquent.

Together, we made our ways to the Dining Hall. The Dining Hall was exactly like I had predicted: rowdy, brimming with chatter, sickeningly full of students doing what they normally do: chatting, flirting, laughing, et cetera; it was the home base of the student life.

Leo led me through the plethora of cliques. _Hell,_ even the Wilderness School have a population pyramid, jocks, cheerleaders and all that good ole' teenager capitalism. He high-fived some people along the way, laughing at their inside jokes while I stood behind him, awkward and alienated from the whole ordeal. Sometimes, he introduced me and they shook my hand, saying it's nice to meet me and general stuff, but that was all the excitement and jazz that happened on the way over.

Finally, we halted at a table where a familiar face occupied one of the seats…

"Jason!"

A sixteen year old girl emerged from her seat. "Thalia!" I felt a spark of excitement as she approached me and enveloped me into a bear hug. Several people glanced up to see the sudden commotion and display of affection, but I didn't care as I hugged the sister I haven't seen in two years.

"Dad told me you were coming," her blue eyes scanned me over, scrutinising my sweat-soaked t-shirt and messy blond hair, which was out of it's usual perfect style. "Smoking marijuana, Jason? _Seriously_?"

I braced myself for the lecture.

"...How_ cliche_!"

Okay, not _that_ lecture.

"You do it too!" I stared accusingly at her.

"Yeah," she conceded, "but I was never stupid enough to get caught," she smacked me playfully on the arm and pulled out a seat for me. "Anyway, I'm being rude. Jason, meet the gang. Gang meet my baby brother, Jason."

"I'm not a baby," I whinged.

Everybody slowly introduced themselves to me, but it was a lot to take in. There was Percy Jackson, a boy with sea green eyes and a wave of dark hair, who was the boyfriend of Thalia's best friend, Annabeth, a pretty Californian blonde with intimidating grey eyes that didn't quite fit the whole 'All-American-Girl' theme going on. The next few was Hazel, who was a year younger than the rest, and she was the girlfriend of Frank, a muscular guy who looked like he could be a potential wrestler on WWE. Hazel got a brother, Nico, who was Percy's roommate. All the couples and sibling relationships had me cross-eyed as I tried to remember who was who.

"Welcome to the Wilderness, man," said Percy as he smiled at me, while wolfing down his cheeseburger with extra-oily fries. "Where another new kind of Hell starts."

Suddenly, someone- Nico, I think- had muttered something that caught my attention and caused everybody's heads to whirl around:

"Great, here she comes."

One of the most beautiful girls I've _ever_ seen was walking towards the table, towards _me_. Her long mahogany hair swished and swung behind her, her lips were pouty and red, her eyes were green...no, blue, wait...brown...were they _multicoloured?_ Her skin was cocoa brown, so smooth and milky I had the sudden temptation to lick it. She wore ripped jeans, a denim jacket over a black top and exuded a demeanour that just screamed_ trouble_.

A cluster of pretty girls followed behind her, waiting on her every heel, but they weren't as pretty as she was. She swaggered over and flashed a coy smile at every boy observing her.. Then she zeroed in on their table, her eyes hinted mischief. "Anybody need a hit?" she asked, her voice so full of teasing joy. She revealed a packet of weed hidden underneath a jacket.

"A pound would be nice," Thalia spoke up.

A flash of silver appeared underneath the line of white teeth. A tongue piercing? I gawked at her. Who _was_ she?

"That'd be ten."

Thalia paid the ten dollars and the mystery girl cautiously slipped the packet underneath the table. She slid the cash into her pockets, playing it off as flippant. Then her eyes landed on me.

"Saw you staring at me," she chided playfully, "Didn't Daddy told you it's rude to stare?"

"Um-I-" floundering like a fish out of water, I could barely find a retort I was usually well-armed with. I mean, I'm _always _punctual,_ always_ eloquent but in the eyes of this chick, the way she was staring me down, like I was a butterfly she wanted to trap, my mouth turned jelly and my body felt like it was zapped. Don't you see why I have a pathological fear for women?

"Naughty boy," she tutted, her eyes changed dangerously into a colour of sky blue, mirroring mine. Her pierced tongue licked her bottom lip, she prodded a finger at my chest like a teacher scolding a child. "Do I need to spank you?"

_What did she just say?! _

Never had I seen a girl so upfront, so confident, and it caught me so off-guard that I blushed, my cheeks heating up. I found the best response I could: "Um-I'm-uh _sorry_?"

She laughed and her friends joined in, howling like a pack of piranhas while I blushed even harder, wanting nothing more than to melt into the background. "_Aw_," she cooed, throwing her head back, exposing a long neck I wanted to wrap my hands around. "You're_ blushing_! Girls, he's blushing!" she cawed at her friends, whose raucous laughter reduced to appalling giggles, "God, you're so adorable," her eyes flickered to my glasses and she inched even closer towards me. She pushed it up, languidly sliding up my nose, smirking as she did so. I gulped, trying to conceal my crotch. Her smirk, if possible, widened.

"How come I never seen you before?"

"He's new," barked Thalia, putting a protective hand over my shoulder. "Fuck off, Piper. We bought your weed already."

Her eyes flashed in annoyance. "Your boyfriend, Grace?" Her tone creeped a hint of danger, like she wouldn't even hesitate on stealing anybody's boyfriend.

"I'm her brother," I intervened.

"_Oh, _your brother, Thalia?" Piper- the girl- smirked again. "Interesting," she gave me an once over, practically shamelessly undressing me with her eyes. "I'm Piper. You?"

"Um, uh, I'm-I'm Jason."

"Hmm, Jason," the name rolled off her silver-pierced tongue softly. She tilted her head sidewards seductively, her hair following suit. "Hope I'll see you around."

Knowing she had turned me tomato red, she turned away, stalking off with her clan, much to Thalia's relief. Her hips swayed and sashayed as she left the room, boys watched her while she go, envying the fact that she talked to_ me,_ nerdy glasses Jason, out of all people.

"So," I said shakily to Leo, "Who's that?"

"Piper Mclean," Leo said dreamily, gaze lingering on where she had stood. "She's one hell of a bad bitch."

Thalia snorted, giving me a concerned look. "I'm a bad bitch. She's a whole other kind of bad. Don't be fooled, Jason, she's the type who sucks a boy dry-"

Leo snickered.

"Get your mind out of the gutter."

"But how can you _not _find that dirty?" guffawed Leo, Percy howling as Annabeth hit him and lectured him. "Sucking him dry...sure Jase would love that."

Hazel, a more conservative person than most, was scandalized: "Guys!"

My face was pretty much a beetroot puce kind of colour. "Can you just..._not_?"

Thalia rubbed her forehead, shaking her head at the current display of idiocy her friends displayed. "My point being is that she will make you fall head over heels for her and dump you the next day, breaking your heart. Not to mention, she gets whatever she wants, even if it's taken. Just stay away from her...she'll just hurt you, and I don't want to see you hurt."

I nodded, looking at the door where Piper Mclean had entered and exited, my heart nailed to the wall that she had hammered onto. How positively fucked am I?

* * *

**Done. I did this in a mere six hours, WHILE STUDYING AND WHILE WRITING DESIRE AND MY NOVEL.**

**Remember to review! And tell me whatcha thinking.  
**


	2. How to be a Heartbreaker

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**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to RR.**

Chapter 2

How To Be A Heartbreaker

_Piper_

"That Jason boy was _so_ cute," tittered Lacy loudly as she sprayed herself with perfume, dousing the entire infrastructure of the dorm room with Chanel No.9, a perfume famous for it's distinct medicinal scent. I tried not to gag as she spritz some on her neck, her back, her face. "Got a new target on your dartboard, Pipes?"

"Maybe," I said mysteriously and the rest of my friends, the Aphrodite crew, exchanged smirks while I tousled my hair into waves. "I mean, he's cute and all, but he's such a good, little boy…"

"As if that will stop you," Kayla snorted, one of the girls who were sitting on the floor of my dorm while filing her nails.

A feral smile crossed my lips and I swiped the red tube over the bottom lip, rubbing it together once I was done. I flashed her Kayla a knowing beam, "True."

Looking at my reflection, I tucked in my dark choppy hair behind my ears and re-applied the liner with expertise, careful with the extra flick at the end of my eyes. Behind my back, the girls of my social ladder were gossiping, chatting, giggling, flipping their hair, rolling their eyes; basically enhancing any part of their social reputation. They're known as the Aphrodite Girls and they were all pretty and beautiful, infallibly rich, infamous for wreaking havoc amongst the department of romance. Everyone looked at me like the Leader and it wasn't something I had solely dictated and claimed, they just gave me an once-over and decided _yeah okay, she's the top bitch_ now. And I've always just rolled with it.

The Aphrodite Girls weren't your typical Mean Girls Plastics-cloned clique. You forgot that the Wilderness School was an alma mater for troubled kids. These were red-lipped high-heeled stilettos women with an edge, they don't care who they have to tread on to claw their way to the top- something I prided myself in and was very good at.

Don't get me wrong, I love Lacy and I love my girls but none of them, not one, have an ounce of loyalty. They would not hesitate me to gouge my eyes out with a heel if it meant taking my spot in this school, and those circumstances led to several rules I've made abundantly clear with a vitalizing lucidity.

_One step and die, bitch._

They got the message after that and never one had stepped out of line. Well except, Drew but she was old news and she should've known better. Suddenly, my cell phone rang, vibrating on the surface of my drawer. _Tristan Mclean,_ the display read and my stomach clenched. Great. The usual check-up was here.

"Leave," I barked at the girls behind me, gritting my teeth, "Now."

They nodded, obedient and docile, scampering out the door. Slamming the door behind me, everybody, even Lacy who knew better to be in the same room with me when I was on the phone with my father.

Ignoring the temptation to ignore the call, I slid over the lock button and pressed it over my ear.

"Yes?" I snapped.

"Piper," my dad's calming tone soothed over the intercom. "How's your first day?"

"It was fine," I said promptly, placing my hands on my hips. Irritation evident in my tone, everything else was indecipherable. "You don't have to check up on me every five minutes."

"Piper, I have to. You've been spiraling out of control with the thefts-"

"Whatever," I interrupted him rudely, "I don't want to hear it."

I hung up, setting the phone down onto the table, breathing hard. I scraped my fingers through my uncombed hair, then sat on the edge of my bed. Maybe why I had manage to maintain my status as the top was because of my street smarts, I've always been on my own- and being on your own tend to force you to wake up in the real world and forge your own path.

But you've heard the name Tristan Mclean, so _yeah. _That's my dad. Cue screaming fan girls and requests for signed photos. Yeah, first of all: fuck off. Second: he's my dad. Third: ew.

He had never cared before, not once. I mean, he used to, before he gotten a break in Hollywood and sky-rocketed to stardom. He used to sing me to sleep, read me stories, spent time with me but ever since that particular callback, he was barely available, often occupied with an interview or a shoot.

Without the time to deal with me, he shipped me off to those private schools while he prance around Hollywood with his celebrity status and a new blonde bimbo who was young enough to be my sister around his arm. He was never apparent at any holidays, no Christmas. Hell, he bailed on my twelfth birthday because he had an hour slot with Good Morning, America.

I was lonely for a long time...no friends, no dad, no mom, no family. I replaced them with much better things, like sex, drugs, boys. Sex was good, don't get me wrong, sex was always good, but they always led to relationships, which leads to complications and messy heartbreaks. It was better- from experience- to avoid it, at whatever costs.

Things escalated when I turned 14, hanging around with the 'bad' crowd, boozing, cutting my hair off, getting an illegal tattoo and my first piercing. I had a boyfriend, Dylan, he was good...to me, I guess. We were inseparable and he opened my eyes to a new world. I lost my virginity towards him. And I didn't regret it. We were dating for four months, but then he cheated on me with some other chick from college. I sure showed them not to piss me off again, with a flammable gas of hair spray and a lighter.

Back to my dad, of course. So with all that naughty misdeeds on my track records, my dad was desperate to 'straighten me out'...whatever that meant. He couldn't handle me when it reached the proximity of me stealing cars, drunk driving and arrested…._on occasions_.

With no other options left, he sent me here. Since he clearly cared so much about me, I decided to return the favour. I just don't care anymore. About anything or anyone. J_ust another misbehaved teenager with daddy issues and too much access to a fake ID_, my reflection snarked. I mean, it's not like I am totally unaware of what everybody says. Judgemental phrases you would toss around your friends, bitchy comments about a girl who flirted with your crush- yeah, I know you would do that. Everybody needs something to critisize- don't deny it. It's human nature to _bitch. _And I'm entirely aware of people labeling me behind my back after I gave them their weed: _whore, slut, trainwreck _\- because they can't find anything else better to talk about.

Growing claustrophobic at the silence, I needed a walk, something to clear my thoughts. I exited my dorm, my boots dragging along the familiar corridors of Wilderness School. It was still Orientation- the very first weekend when everybody settled in to their dorms, unpacked their things, mingled with new friends and the such. I ignored everybody until I saw Jason, the new boy, looking quite lost at the sandy courtyard.

I had to agree with Lacy. Even from this distance, the new kid was extremely cute. He had the whole 'awkward turtle' tied down to a T. His ruffled blond hair was unruly, sticking out from various places, his glasses were dorky- admittedly- but they made him look, if possible, cuter. His features were regal, like an European aristocrat and his eyes were cerulean, with swirls of icy sky blue, hypnotizing me when I was staring him down at the cafeteria. It took all of my willpower not to drag him from his chair into a broom closet and do questionably questionable things to him.

Smiling wickedly and licking my lips, I approached him.

"Hey sexy," I greeted amiably and he spun around, books nearly falling out of his hands when he saw me sauntering towards him.

"Um- uh, hey," he stumbled upon his words. Nervous, his gaze darted from my face to my tightly-hugged chest, with just enough cleavage showing, to my legs in shorts. And just to twist a bit more on his nerves, I laid a hand on his shoulder, a caustic gleam in my eyes and he was trying to not let those books topple over his arms again. _God_, boys were so easy.

"How's your first day?"

"Well- it's going swell. I mean," he corrected himself, "it's not over yet."

"I see," I released my gentle grip on his shoulder abruptly. Then suggestively, I added: "Anything I can do to make it better?"

"What?" he gawked and I laughed, putting a hand over my mouth at his priceless expression.

"Just joking, just joking," I winked, wagging my finger back and forth. "Or maybe not…"

"Well, I don't think I…" he trailed off.

"We should?" I finished for him in the barest trace of a whisper. "Why? Scared Big Sister will punish for being a bad bad boy?"

He gulped and I relished at the moment of having him under my thumb, seeing him anxious produced a kick of addiction I never sensed before. I don't know why, but good boys were always my favourite kind of candy. Bad boys were so predictable, they wanted you and then they don't- once they're done with you, the matter's settled. But good boys...seeing them being bad was like having the first whiff of a joint. It felt like an adrenaline rush. It gave me immense pleasure to watch them break into pieces and somehow, I knew I wanted to hurt Jason, more than any other boy. Maybe it was because he looked so innocent, with his angelic hair and angelic blue eyes, he was _so_...clean and having that level of perfection shatter was just art.

In fact, I never searched for reasons of why breaking hearts was such an activity for the Aphrodite Girls. I myself knew how painful it was to be heartbroken, but it never stopped me.

"Anyway," I went on, enjoying him sweating under my gaze, "I want you to follow me."

"W-where?"

I made a 'come-hither' sign with my index finger, taking the lead towards the exit. "Why don't you come find out?"

The Wilderness School was a campus of several, low-ceiling blocks spread throughout the least hottest part of the desert. Over on the right were where all the dorms were situated and on the left was the actual school facilities, classrooms and whatnot. In the middle was the plain, sandy courtyard where the students hung around but that wasn't where I wanted to go. The Courtyard busied itself with students engaging themselves with others, several of them occasionally greeted me as I walked past, but most of them (the guys and some girls) ogled shamelessly and whispered immodestly while I ushered the new kid over to my favourite place in the world.

The secluded bench was located behind the dorms, but you have to past the Courtyard in order to enter it. It was also the coolest part of the school, with the shades of extending roof overhead away from the sun.

"This is a beautiful place," I said, lounging onto the chair, sun in my face as I folded my legs. "Isn't it?"

"It's pretty relaxing," he conceded, awkwardly standing.

I patted the space besides me. "Come on," I cooed, "I don't bite. Unless you _like_ it kinky."

He blushed tomato red and I resisted from snickering by biting onto my lip. God, could he be any cuter?

I slipped my hands into the pockets of my mini-skirt and got out a packet of cigarettes. Soon, smoke rings emitted from the ignited tip and the gap between my lips, lazily perched on the bench while the cigarette dwindled between my fingers. My head cleared instantly once the nicotine hit my bloodstream, relaxing my anger from my father's phone call and releasing the right sort of steam sex never gave me. Jason observed how I sucked the cigarette dry, inhaling as much smoke as I could before exhaling.

"Want one?" I raised my eyebrow, offering one from the box.

He shook his head as I've expected. "No, I- I don't smoke."

_Of course, you don't, sweetie._

"But didn't smoking marijuana landed you here in the first place?"

"Ah-yeah, that was just a drunken mistake."

I chuckled, running a hand through my choppy strands and put my legs up onto his lap. "Um-" he seemed rather alarmed at the way my legs were idly reposing on his, but I cut him off with an innocently coy look:

"What?" I shifted my legs, lifting one over the other, "Something wrong?"

He reddened. "Nothing."

Liar, liar, pants on fire- and it's not mine, for once.

I grinned predatorily. "So, Jason?" I utilized the tantalizing effect of the question, fluttering my eyes flirtatiously, "You're such a good boy. Daddy's favourite, never kicked out of school, good grades, not one fuck-up? Not even an affair? And then, it was one joint and you ended up here. Tsk, tsk, what you got to say for yourself?"

"How- how did you find that all out?" he gaped at me like I was an alien species, I laughed and pinched his cheeks as if he was a five-year old child failing to understand adult situations.

"I have my sources."

He positively gulped. Man, I am going to eat him alive. I reduced my cigarette into a measly stub and ground it deep into the sand with one of my boots. I lit another again, resuming to drinking in the toxic air greedily, and he coughed slightly, choking on the noxious smoke.

I got concerned, "Are you okay?" I asked as he clutched his chest, wheezing, "Do I put it out?"

"No-" he coughed a little more, "It's okay. You can continue...eradicating your lungs."

"Oh no, you're one of those people."

"One of those?"

"People, who act like benevolent authoritarian figures. 'Those things kill you, y'know'- the ever-famous line; it fucking annoys me. Like, of course I know they kill me. Why else would I be smoking them?" I ranted, vocally impassioned about the subject, my hands flapping wildly to keep the desert flies out of my heavily glossed lips. "We humans love to self-destruct. It's one of my favorite things to do. Self-destructing is what makes humans feel alive."

Silence dropped between the both of us and he regarded me in shock, unable to believe a smart, yet brutally honest remark had fallen out of my mouth. What? It's the truth. We're all already dying. Dying from the first day since we're born, on that same day, we're inevitably marked for our deaths. These special nicotine sticks just add the red cross to the grave.

"That's...very discerning of you to say so."

I shrugged, "It's true," I gestured to the cigarette, regarding it with a certain admiration. It was a beauty of a killing machine; so insignificant, small and trivial yet it's death toll was racked to an all-time high. "Isn't it? Cigarettes are just one metaphor after another. What kills you make you feel alive? That's one." Clamping my teeth around my cigarette, I looked up at him and wiggled the box full of nicotine wrapped in pretty white sticks. "You sure you don't want any?"

He hesitated and I could imagine the mental debate going on in his head, trying to decide on morals or curiosity. _Come on,_ I coaxed inside my head, _you know you wanna_. "You know what? Sure, I'll take one."

Score.

"That's my boy." I clicked the lighter and flames consumed the nib. The smoke danced and weaved an intricate rom the end, as he held it to his face and tried to inhale the white clouds, only resulting in coughing and spluttering. He winced and grimaced, gasping for breath, the cigarette dangling from the edge of his fingers and threatening to fall onto the desert floor.

"Urgh."

"Yeah," I patted his arm. "That was my first time too. But after a while, it gets better."

He bit his lip and attempted smoking a few more rounds, eventually getting used to the provocative act. It was for sure one of the most disconcerting sight I've ever set my eyes on; an All-American blond teenager with too-big dorky glasses smoking next to me, who looked as if I've just marched out of the set of _the Runaways._

"Hey," he spoke out of the sudden, bringing us out of the silence. The hot arid air blended while with the smoky warmth our cigarettes provided us, the scratchy heat gathering beads of sweat upon my forehead. Though this was my treasured beloved area to be quiet and think, or smoke and drink in peace, the other Aphrodite girls despised this place because it ruined their hair and makeup. "What happened if you get caught? I mean, smoking is against the school rules…and if my dad finds out, he will kill me. Literally kill me."

"Look," I told him, honest-to-God serious, no bullshit- I swear, "the school is meant to straighten you out, while eating the money of our parents. Theoretically, it's supposed to be improving your behaviour, so if the school tells your parents of your misdeeds, well obviously they're not doing a very good job. In reality, the most trouble you'll get in is detention. Or better yet, not get caught at all. That suggestion is always open to everyone. It's either you're professional about the way you break the rules," I opened my arms wide to show off my secluded bench, blowing a thin stream of smoke into the desert air. As if it could get any hotter. "or you don't do it all. But I supposed considering that we're stuck here in this hellhole, we're not professionals on breaking the rules- and it seems it's the only thing this school is good at."

"Okay," he said, although he continued: "What a motto, though. The Wilderness School: Where We Teach You How Not To Break Rules But You Still Do."

"Fruitless endeavours to liberate us," I said darkly, agreeing with him. Up close, I studied the outline of his face. From his chiseled jaw, aristocratic nose, high cheekbones, the scarce stubble scattered across his sharp chin, he looked photo-shopped, if it wasn't for the fresh splash of freckles dotted across his nose. "Freckles," I mumbled.

"Yeah," he grumbled, "A thing with being so damn pale."

"Not for long," I hummed, displaying my tan skin. "You're in Arizona now, Grace. You'll burn just like me."

"I hate my pale skin," he sighed, looking down on his face, "I blush like a tomato, even when I'm not blushing and I bruise like a peach. Also, the freckles..."

"Don't. They're cute," I said, unintentionally slipping. His face split into a shy smile. _God, why are you so fucking adorable? You're like a puppy!_ I wanted to yell at him, finding it difficult not to get worked-up by the intense blue eyes, electrifying and bright, electing and scrutinizing me. Jason was a good boy, but he felt...different. A good boy, but unlike any other good boys, he was tired of being a good boy. He felt...like he was trying to see through me- no one ever did that. I never let them.

I liked the whole geeky thing. It made me want to unravel him and teased him, untied those tight knots and undo them until he's reduce to nothing.

A wan, sly expression played on my features, highlighting the intimacy of the situation, "How about a game?" I inched closer towards him. "Three questions?"

"Um...okay?"

"Where from?"

"San Francisco."

"Favourite food?"

"Um, pizza."

"Dammit!"

"What?" he was alarmed. "What did I do wrong?"

"Pizza," I said vehemently, "How prosaic. You just ruined it, Jason Grace," I dramatically clutched my chest, pantomiming fainting onto the bench, "You just ruined everything."

"Everything?"

"Well, you have o_ne_ question left, okay? Answer it correctly and consider us friends."

I crawled further in to him, closing the distance between our bodies and I stopped when there was nothing short of a few centimetres from our faces, waiting to be pushed into a perfect position of a kiss. "Have you ever kissed anyone?"

"..._no_."

I pressed my lips against his to provide my answer. His eyes widened but I licked my tongue over his bottom lip, ensuring it was okay. He closed his eyes, enveloping his power onto the kiss, his large comforting hands shot to my waist, pulling me closer into him and straddled me onto his lap, my legs swinging around tongue explored mine and I buried my hands into the fluffy curls of his blond head, wanting security as he cupped my face and stroke my cheeks, his nimble fingers drawing circles on my skin, tracing softly. I could've melted into that kiss...he was so _different _from anything I ever had, so gentle, so patient, so courteous, as if frightened he would break me- he wasn't like normal boys who greedily rushed the kiss to get the sex proceeding faster, he was one who waited for the girl to feel comfortable and the mannerism, the thought he spared, stole my breath away.

"What...what was that?" he gasped, breaking apart when he realized what happened and seized control of the situation, ending something that could've led elsewhere.

"That was...wow," my head spinning from the rush and I fiddled with the top button of his shirt, "You sure it's your first?"

"Um, yeah," I bet he was blushing. He was blushing, wasn't he? Pinks highlighted those pale cheeks.

That cute bastard.

I rested my head onto his shoulder, hearing his heart pulsed erratically underneath his body, thumping to the rhythm to my feet tapping the floor. He was exhaling slowly, his cigarette forgotten on the floor, his chest rising and dropping as he looked down at me.

"So...are we…"

I shrugged, "I don't know." I said cryptically and climbed off his lap, directing him a wink. He stared up at me, confused. That was the thing with boys- you always leave them hanging for more. "Maybe. See you, Sparky."Sparky? Seriously? How unoriginal. Whatever. It fits.

And with that, I left.


	3. Troublemaker

**Well hot damn. The encouragement of this have been so amazing OH MY GOSH.  
**

**Thanks so so so much!**

**Late Update: Because of Desire taking up so much time, Hustler have been a slow train so I apologize. However, those who are slowly (torturously) waiting for updates can read that to fill up spare time of waiting for Hustler. If you've already read Desire, then well...there are thousands of brilliant Jasper fics out there. (Won't name names because I don't want anybody to feel alienated)**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to RR.**

Chapter 3

Troublemaker

_Jason_

Wow. _Wow._

wowowowowowowowowow

Calm down, Jason, calm down.

BUT THAT JUST HAPPENED. I CAN'T CALM MY GOD.

Hyperactivity bounced around my head right after she winked at me, gave a little wave and stalked off, her hips swaying seductively, abandoning me while I tried (and failed) to understand what the hell just happened. Did she just- did I just-_no_, this is a dream.

It's a dream. It's a dream. It must be a dream.

I pinched myself and yelped, pain shooting up my arm. This isn't a dream. The reality of the kiss, the softness of her lips crashing upon mine, my face touching her satin skin- so delicate for a girl so tough, the memory of her legs dangling from mine was fading in my mind like water through a cupped hand. Only droplets remain of her touch, the way her fingers gripped my hair- roughly but not to the point untill it hurt, and her strange cinnamon scent- which I find oddly comforting, lingering until the smoke from my cigarette burned my throat.

As an act to promise myself the kiss she gave me was very real, I smoked two more cigarettes from the packet she left on my lap before returning back to my dorm, slightly zombified and glazed, replaying the scene of her kiss over and over again. Loud waves of pop punk was radiating from my dorm when I entered, finding Leo Valdez dancing to an upbeat rhythm, his naked ass swinging from front to the back, my sight instantly blinded by something I wish I could unsee.

_What was seen can never be unseen_, I thought from the infamous cat meme as I averted my eyes with my arm from the searing view of Leo's naked dancing. A shout rose from my throat:

"Leo!"

"Oh, Jason!"

"Cover up, please, I'm begging you! For the sake of all that's rational, put some fucking clothes on!"

"Okay, okay," huffed Leo, grabbing his pants resting on his desk while I peeked through my fingers. Leo had wiggled into a pair of jeans and a faded Ramones t-shirt, enabling myself to sigh in relief and glared at the Hispanic boy.

"Do you scare all of your roommates in similar fashion?"

"Not all," he waved dismissively, "Just most."

"Good to know," I said, looking green as I landed into bed after a tiring day, feeling the tension in my muscles releasing. I craned my head to regard Leo oddly. "Tell me, don't you know Halloween is still a month away?"

"Hey!" pouted Leo, crossing his arms. "I look good naked!"

"...that's not something to take pride on, Leo."

"Oh believe me, we Valdezs take much pride over our naked forms." I choked on the saliva swallowing down my throat in amused laughter while I shook my head at my friend's antics. He was a wonder. A weird, fucked-up wonder, but I realize life in the Wilderness would be a hell lot more depressing without him. Then Leo asked me: "So where you've been?"

I shifted from side to side and tried to think of a perfect excuse, "Oh," I shrugged nonchalantly, "Just around. Trying to get my head around this steel box in a sand pit."

He sniffed the air and he narrowed his eyes, zeroing on me. "Hold on, have you been...smoking?'

I stiffened. _Shit. _"A bit…"

"A bit? You smell like a fucking chimney."

"Okay, I smoke like one or...two…"

I have expected him to become disapproving or admonished me, but instead he grinned. "Cool, where did you get the cigarette?" He sounded envious.

Caught off guard, I blinked- well, that was a surprise. "Um, Piper."

"With Piper?" laughed Leo, wagging his finger at me and I felt the embarrassment roasting my neck, spreading the heat to my face. "Twice in a day? You've been busy."

I downplayed it, shrugging and awkwardly evading Leo's smirk and pesterings- his constant attempts to extract information from my encounter with the dark-haired Native American. "It was nothing," I said hastily, "Just several smokes. That's all that happened."

Leo did not believe one word of it.

"Bullshit, it's Piper Mclean. She can make a trip to the dentist entertaining, for hell's sake."

"She's…something," I definitely agreed.

It was only five hours into this place and everything, all the craziness, was hurling itself towards me at a speed I can't even decipher. It was like a wild ride on a Ferarri, difficult to digest, hard to believe and totally unreal. In less than five hours, I've made out with one of the most prettiest girls I've ever seen, smoke nearly half a packet of cigarettes (and I've never smoke before in my life) and had a naked, weird prankster who danced to Madonna in his spare time as a roommate. The Wilderness School don't really do 'normal' that well, do they?

Soon, Dinner was signalled. The people flowed out of their dorms again, talking and chatting as they went down to the cafeteria for food. It was a Fried-Day Friday cook-out, as Leo had named it, with several people facepalming to the punny nickname, because the cook, Lady Hestia- the 'best hot damn cook there is out there' (as Leo had put it)- had prepared her most famous meal among the teenage crowd: fried chicken, french fries, fried banana fritters, fried waffles, anything greasy and crispy, soaked in oil.

It was all delicious. And a nightmare to anybody weight-conscious.

Following Leo's lead, I sat with Percy and the others, laughed and discussed about tomorrow, the first official weekend of school and what they'll be doing. Hazel suggested going out towards the nearest small town around the desert oasis area and number of offers were thrown across the room. It was then decided they would head out to Quartzize, a truck-stop town, where civilization actually existed for the next thousand mile or so. Filled with chunks of fried chicken in my stomach, I happily returned to my dorm, exhausted after today's events.

Collapsing in bed, I smiled at the ceiling and pulled over the covers, giddy to anticipate my fate here at the Wilderness.

It's definitely going to be one hell of a wild ride.

* * *

The next morning Leo woke me up by throwing his smelly socks onto my face.

Pierce of advice: Leo's unwashed, filthy, reeked of a rotten-fish scent right up your nose on a Saturday morning was _not_ my idea of a healthy breakfast.

It was a bright, early sort of morning; incandescent streams of sunrays filtering into the gaps of the closed window. Yesterday, because of the night setting in, it was unbelievably cold. The desert's clouds created no shelter from the strong gales, battering the windows all night long, that I had to cocoon myself in a nests of sheets to stop myself from chattering. Now the sun had risen, it was scorching the land with a fierce intensity never felt before and within twenty minutes of the sun, my shirt was already slicked with sweat.

I plunged myself into the cold shower, drenching myself with water. I stepped out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed and ready to start the day. Leo and I wolfed down our breakfasts, joined Percy and the gang at the entrance of the campus, where a dusty bus awaited.

"So this is the transport to Quartzsite?" I asked Percy, nose crinkling at the run-down size, whose windows looked broken.

"Yeah," snorted the green-eyed boy, "Homey, eh?"

"Like Grandma's house," I muttered, about to follow Percy's trail towards the bus when I spotted Piper and her clones behind her, talking quite audibly a few yard over, fashionable leather knapsacks slung over their shoulders; their hair combed and kept in place, their makeup professionally perfect and their clothes were of course upgraded to the current season of style. I wasn't an expert on looks, but Jesus did they bring New York's fashion week over to searing Arizona.

"Jason," called out Thalia, right by Annabeth's side. His sister was dressed in the shortest cutoff shorts he had ever seen, accompanied by a black tank pinned with dozen of screaming badges, advocating: **PUNK IS NOT DEAD.**

"Coming over," I yelled back, tearing my gaze from Piper. Being the obedient brother I was, I took the offer of Thalia's hand and retreated into the sweltering interior of the bus, my glimpse of her fading into the rear-view mirror as the bus lurched into movement through the sandy atmosphere.

I'm not going to sugar-coat it for you guys but Quartzite was a dump.

Large RV trucks parked messily at every front of a run-down bar, or convenience store. Flies heaved around our faces and I did my best to swat them away with not much success. My tongue had lost its moisture entirely and I was dying to get a drink. The sun had risen to the azure sky, not a cloud in sight. So the heat was in full-throttle, burning everybody within its proximity. The wind was dry and warm, scratching my face with bits of sand.

"Wow," I remarked.

"I know," beamed Percy, "It's Heaven."

"I was going more for 'burning Hell'. But that's fine too."

"Stop whinging, baby brother," Thalia stepped off the bus, landing on the desert floor with dust flying. "This isn't New York, but it's the closest thing we'll get."

"I'm thirsty."

"So is everybody, little bro," Thalia gestured to a bar- a sturdy, small little shack with the board barely secured onto the top, dark tinted windows, a broken door hanging slightly ajar on the hinges and an overall aura that sent shivers down my back. It looked like some old grubby pub in a Western cowboy movie. "Drinks are the absolute best here."

Thalia was right.

The bar or pub- was called Argus's Hippy Hideaway, owned by a grumpy, stout man with a fat mop of blond hair over his head, blinking blue eyes and a demeanour not meant to be crossed, until his face broke into the friendliest smile I had ever seen on such a frightening man.

"Percy, Annabeth," he grunted in a stereotypical movie deep voice, "You're back! School's in session already?"

Percy bobbed his head in a yes motion, "Yep, it sucks but you're here," Percy flashed him a silly grin and then clapped me on the back, nearly knocking me to the floor and my glasses askew. "We got a new addition, Argus- he's Jason!" I waved awkwardly, not the best at first impressions and Argus gave me a toothy grin and a large cracked cup of beer.

We've bought a round of Argus's best recommended beer and we've wasted chugging the cool, foamy liquid down our throats, quenching our thirsts. I licked my lips, savouring the bittersweet but ice cold taste of the beer when I suddenly realized my mug was gone. Percy beamed at me and raised his mug in response, guzzling down as his girlfriend rolled her eyes and remarked about how he was such a slob and lectured him on how he could've taken it a bit easier.

Within thirty minutes, the throng of buzzing students entered the bar and began ordering, talking along themselves as they occupied the vacant seats. It was clear from the beginning that Argus's Hippy Hideaway was a popular thing. When the bar started to get too crowded, Thalia suggested we checked out the other shops, claiming she was in need of a shopping emergency. Everybody agreed without animosity, exiting the cool interior of Argus's pub and entering Arizona's hell. I was all for shopping but seriously who the fuck can solve the need of a 'shopping emergency' in a truck stop town?

We've passed several tattered thrift shops, browsing through the dusty collections of old Colonial frontier notebooks and journals, which Annabeth expressed ardent enthusiasm for. "Oh my god," she raved to her boyfriend, spilling her coins onto the counter of the old lady. Hazel, Frank and a moody Nico in tow had told them they had to visit the technology store- of which I proceeded to wonder where the _fuck_ was the Apple store- and went off on their own, promising they would all meet back at Argus's place. Leo was sipping on a takeaway mug of Argus's best brews, but the heat didn't bother him strangely. When I fanned myself and wiped away my sweat, Leo basked in the heat, happily noting of how he enjoyed this kind of weather more than anything else in the world as Percy, Annabeth and I stared at him like crazy- well, _I _stared at him as if he was crazy, Percy and Annabeth just shrugged.

We journeyed towards the other side, where most of the restaurants were, and grabbed some lunch at a crappy Mexican place where the taco shells were _soft _but the beef tasted good, nonetheless. I was just weirded out by the soft texture of the tacos. Then, at the end scale of the afternoon, when it got a bit cooler, Thalia and I stopped by one of the clothes shop and I realized Piper and her clones of pretty 'Aphrodite Girls' as the entire school had nicknamed them giggling by one of the more extravagant shops.

By extravagant I meant it was not as tattered and frayed as every shop and the shop had lined their clothing in the sandy display of the windows, with beads of ancient Native American tribal jewelry shown sufficiently in glass cases. A burly, sleepy cleaner moped the window inefficiently, failing to get any kind of sand off.

"Jason!" she waved at me and blew a flirty little kiss with her palm, "How's my Superman feeling?"

I blushed tomato red instantly. She smirked. Damn it. "Um," I mumbled, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Good. A bit hot, you know…"

"Oh, I bet you are," she winked and strode over in cutoff shorts and a black crop top riding up her stomach, exposing her tanned flesh and navel pierced with a black jade stud. A pink lollipop was stuck in between her mouth, her tongue encasing the sweet globe every once in a while.

"Piper," Thalia swore under her breath, addressing the tiny brunette with her classic stink-eye. She plastered on a poker face; a smile, but lacking the genuine warmth she gave me, and filled with sardonic phoniness. "What do you want? We don't want to buy cigs, Pipes. I still have four packs."

"Not selling, Thals," Piper laughed, pulling the lollipop out. It was slick and wet with her saliva. "Just checking out inventory."

"My brother is not a duck for you to shoot targets at, Mclean," said Thalia firmly, grabbing her strict hold on him. Her hand was slippery with sweat, but insistent.

"I'm right here," I defended, wrenching my hand out of her grip. Thalia glared at me, unnaturally patronising. Her eyes screamed_ don't you even dare_, but I ignored her and smiled shyly at Piper. "Hey."

She cocked her head sidewards. "Hullo," she flashed Thalia a nauseatingly smug look. "See? Your brother can greet others nicely. Why can't you?"

"Because you're a bitch," grunted Thalia originally, regaining her composure with the petite brunette. "Look, we just want to be left alone and we really could have a better day without your company. You mind fucking off?"

Normally, anybody would've been pretty offended by the rude comment but instead of getting all hissy, Piper drew her lips into a perfect rosebud pout. "But Jason wants me here," she glanced expectantly at me, and I retreated between the two intense women. "doesn't he?"

"Uh-" Not wanting to be rude, I politely nodded and avoided the acidic look I was instantly confronted with by Thalia, "Sure."

Piper wrapped her lips obscenely around the lollipop, her pink tongue bobbing in and out, and said triumphantly: "Great." She turned to Thalia; whose face was an impassive mask. "Problem, Thals?"

I've observed the frosty, exchange, steaming with tense animosity. My instincts were telling me to bolt, because I can tell something very, very bad was about to happen within two women and being caught in that was as bad as trapped in the rain with the high velocity of getting struck by lightning. "No," retorted Thalia proudly, "Not at all. Why don't you join us?"

Piper clearly won this round. She brightened. "Thanks; you're such a great friend, Thals."

Thalia only marched away in the opposite direction. Piper laughed and linked her arm around mine, "You're going to go calm her down?" she batted her eyelashes innocuously.

"Yeah-" Stumbling once again, "I better go."

* * *

I was encased within the white sheets of my bed, trying to fall asleep to the sound of Leo's snores when Piper had snuck into my room. It was two in the morning and everybody was deep in their rooms, sleeping.

It was sinfully cold, with the strong desert winds blowing across the school's infrastructure and banging the door across the threshold, keeping me awake. I thought of rising from my bed to retrieve maybe my book, but I couldn't be fucked by the effort to stand up.

It was then when I heard an unnatural creak that didn't omit out of my bed and flinched upright, looking frantically around my surroundings while jabbing myself in the eye from trying to put on my glasses blindly. I scrambled out of bed, reaching for the closest form of a weapon- my pillow- and tripped on my way out oh-so-formidably. But I felt a dainty hand pressed on my naked chest saw Piper standing above me, smirking, her eyes glinting an amber colour in the dark as she raised her eyebrows at the sight of me planting myself ass-first onto the ground.

"Little excited, aren't we?" she giggled as she sat on the foot of my bed while I continue to gawk.

"Piper?" I fumbled. "What are you...doing here at two in the morning?"

She shrugged, "Bored," her eyes trailed down my naked abdomen and I realized I was only in boxer shorts. Redness decorated my cheeks. "Blushing once again? God, I love blushers. They're so cute."

"Shut up," I mumbled, crawling into bed. "Well, what do you want?"

"You," she said bluntly, catching me off guard as she curled her head onto my stomach. She grinned at my shock and laughed, her lips grazing my earlobe. "Just joking, you cutie."

"Am I dreaming?"

She pinched my buttcheeks and I yelped and jumped, causing Leo to stir. "Nope," she popped the 'p'.

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my fists, ridding my eyes of the receding haze of sleep. "So…?" I offered as she traced circles onto my bare chest. She was in nothing but tiny boy shorts, exposing her milky legs and a simple black tank. Her hair kept in a messy knot and her face was free of her makeup. I was surprised by how fresh-faced she was; though she looked sexy and hot with her heavy eyeliner and red lipstick, she looked even better- sweet and real- without it. Normally, girls who wore lots of makeup didn't look as well as they did with it, but Piper was different. I instantly preferred her without her intense makeup….she seemed almost real.

"Let's go for a drink and some food," she held up a bottle of alcohol.

I pushed my floppy blonde hair out of my face. "What?" I whisper-shouted.

"Food," she repeated, "Like a burger. I'm fucking starving."

"At-at this time? We- we have curfew," I said sternly. "We'll get caught."

She picked up a discarded shirt lying by the floor and tossed it to me. "That should do," she decided firmly. I stood rigid, unmoving as she started towards the door and twisted it open, then turned around. "Come on."

"I-" Words stuck in my throat. Leo snored, ruining the dramatic effect.

"Don't be such a goody-two shoes."

"We shouldn't," I responded fiercely, forming some what of a stance against her. She seemed taken aback I've made such a remark. Nonplussed, she blinked and recoiled, reverting to a different approach. She slinked back into my room, her silhouette sliding behind her as a slow, seductive grin inhabited her face, gracing her features in a playful manner. "Never snuck out before," she laughed slightly, throwing her head back, "haven't you? Poor little lamb. You'll see what you're missing out on."

She pulled on my arm, leading me towards the door. "What if we get caught?" I gulped at her.

She softened at the fear in my voice, but she tilted her head and blew me a kiss as the cold, desert air washed upon our bare skin through the gap of our door. "It's okay," she promised with certainty, "I put the pro in professional at this."

* * *

**Reviews are like kissing baes so keep them coming.  
**

**MWAH! **


	4. Blank Space

**Yeah. Don't own shit.**

Chapter 4

Blank Space

Piper

I pushed the door of Jason's dorm room. It was two in the morning and everybody was asleep. His door wouldn't budge, so I pushed it harder and twisted the handle once more until I realized he or Leo must've locked it before going to bed. I sighed and reached for a bobby pin that was barely maintaining my hair intact. I've been single-handledly taught by the Stolls how to perfect the art of lock-picking, so naturally it only needed ten seconds for the pin to work it's magic and unlock the door.

I crept in, skillfully sliding into the room without so much of a peep, but then I accidentally bumped into his study chair and caused a squeak to echo around the room. He frantically scrimmaged out of bed and fell unceremoniously onto his cute little butt on the way out. I stifled a laugh, closing my mouth with a hand and sashayed over with the bottle of wine.

* * *

"Shh," I whispered, softer than a single string of a harp but it still bounced a bit off the hallways, "Tip toe across the corridors. Once you've reached the stairs, you can breathe. Nobody can really hear you there." An uneasy Jason shifted behind me and I smiled confidently at him, to show my utmost confidence. "I've done this before and you're with me, big boy," I winked. "You'll be just peachy."

"S-sure," he said shyly, clasping my hand for reassurance and my heart ached for him at the merest gesture. He was such a cutie, a complete social disaster- sure, but a cutie, in an awkward turtle way. Of course, he looked much better than most awkward turtles but still. He was adorable and so unsure, filled with such uncertainty, looking at me with those beautiful storms of eyes for guidance. Well, that would change soon. A little more of the Piper-machine and I'll have his backbone as rigid as steel in no time; but then I'll have to let him go. It made me more nostalgic than it should. It broke my heart, but at the same time I wanted to laugh hysterically. People were ought to do that more: when you were at your lowest and you felt like bawling your fucking eyes out, the best medicine was to laugh your head off.

But the point was that love was a game. It depended on how long he would want to play.

I took the lead and beamed a light onto the corridor from my phone so I knew where I was going. We strode silently down the stairs, as quiet as mouses as we passed the other dorms. Jason's grip tightened on mine throughout the eerie hallways- it was almost creepy as we crossed over the large open foyer, which led to the different wings of classrooms and other amenities. In the dark, the school was different, unrecognizable even. It was empty, hollow, devoid of the usual happiness that filled the spaces with students milling in and out.

My expertise with sneaking out came from the numerous times I've snuck out of my house to escape from my father and his Hollywood blood-sucking snakes. Whenever my Dad brought home another of his groupies home, I would climb out of the window and crawl up the pipe, then sit on the ceiling and stare at the stars all night long. I would number them across the skies, from the end of the horizon to another, and give them names. Sometimes, I throw in a bottle of vodka and a packet of Malboro Lights for good measure.

"Come on," I whispered, tip-toeing my way towards the dining room. "Hurry!"

With bare feet, I padded down the stairs which guided us towards the familiar large room where the dining tables had been packed with the chairs stacked onto the surface. There was a ray of fluorescent light gleaming from the kitchen, a sign that Miss Hestia was very well awake, probably preparing for tomorrow's breakfast.

I entered the kitchen, dragging Jason along with me. Miss Hestia jerked back, scared out of her wits, and caused the box of milk cartons to jostle out of her hands and fell onto the floor. "Piper!" she yelped, hand over her heaving chest. She picked up the milk cartons and regarded me oddly. "What are you doing here at such a late time?"

I grinned childishly, "You know, just planning to chill.." And I gestured to Jason by placing my head on his shoulder, "And I brought a friend."

Miss Hestia's warmth was radiant enough to melt through metal and she was often so kind, unlike the rest of the world. Whenever I couldn't sleep, I would walk down here and accompany Miss Hestia as she tidied the kitchen and prepared food for tomorrow. She would give me either fresh leftovers from today's meals or her stash of ice cream on the last shelf of the freezer while I humoured her during our chats.

Miss Hestia was something I didn't like to share with my other friends because they wouldn't understand why I would sneak out in the middle of the night to meet the cafeteria woman and Drew wouldn't hesitate to make cruel remarks the minute she caught wind of this. Miss Hestia was almost like a mother to me in this school, without the nagging. She saw the real Piper Mclean, underneath the sheds of toughness and ambiguity, she saw through me and she had never nagged me to change, like a real mother would. She knew I enjoyed who I am for the time being and she didn't see the need for a straightening out, or whatever my father intended to happen to me while I resided in this school. She was something for me to hold on to and somehow, I didn't know why, but I felt the strangest urge that only someone like Jason would comprehend my actions.

I could read him like a magazine. He lacked confidence and he slumped whenever he walked; hanging his low, avoiding eye contact. He was a wallflower while I was the exact opposite. He was my version of a misfit toy.

"So what are we going to do here?"

I leapt onto the kitchen's steel counter top. "Have a little picnic," I looked at Hestia, who had disappeared into the large steel fridge. "Hey, Miss Hestia, do you have any leftover food?"

"Of course," said Miss Hestia kindly, "Would you like some?"

I grinned like a chesire cat. "Yes, please," I licked my lips, "I'm starving and really thirsty," I shook the wine bottle in front of Jason's face. Popping the cork, I offered him the first swig. "Come on, don't be shy."

Fearfully, he'd taken a sip. "Ooh," he said, licking his lip after his first taste. "I like this. It's kind of sweet and different. What is it?"

"Strawberry champagne," I offered him proudly, showcasing my knowledge. "It's the fucking best."

"Mmm," he murmured in agreement, drinking small amounts of the beverage. He recoiled at the bittersweet, metallic taste, but then Hestia arrived once again and entered through the doors, smiling with two plates of leftover fries and fried fish fingers.

"There you go," said Hestia, handing me the plates. "Enjoy, but not too much," she yawned and patted my folded legs, "Remember to switch the lights off once you've gone back, okay?"

I nodded, "I will, Miss Hestia." Miss Hestia, being the sweetest ever, left us on our own and we were abandoned within the silence shared between Jason and I. For several moments, we just kept drinking the wine and didn't say anything. I liked it. Sometimes, silence was necessary in terms of conversation. Relationships can't singularly rely on words.

"So," I said teasingly, "Now that we're all alone…"

His eyes widened and a nervous laugh escaped him. I giggled along. I didn't know why I like him so much; I mean, yeah he's good-looking but so were two hundred other boys confined within this school. He's adorable but so were everybody else. Maybe I liked him because he considered me properly, as if I was someone with feelings rather than a whore to be lugged around. I just hoped he wouldn't get any ideas along the spectrum of forever and shit, because the sickening thought of marriage and babies was enough to trigger a gag reflex. Whatever this was, as I linked my fingers between Jason, it wasn't built to last. It was built to fall apart.

Heading over to his place, inviting Jason on my midnight detours, my intentions were anything but good. I wanted to open his eyes into my spectacular world of bad behaviours and I could show him incredible things but I had to admit- it'd be a challenge. Judging from the way he obeyed Thalia from every word, held himself with his head down and shoulders sagged and possessed no self-confidence whatsoever, I had lots of work on my plate. He was even worse than Lacy when she first started out.

Oh, dotting, little Lacy. She was cute and innocent, with braces attached to her teeth and her blonde hair bounded into twin pigtails. She reminded me of a little sister I never had. She was often put aside, she had told me, by her parents. Nobody looked at her, nobody spared her an ounce of attention, so she decided to make things happen for herself. Naturally, all those things were illegal- which was the reason of how she ended up here in the Wilderness. But nonetheless, she was as shy and timid as a mouse caught under a trap. I felt sorry for her. I empathized. I knew what it was like to be a misfit toy and I taught her it was better to be a misfit toy- true to yourself- rather than a plastic, shiny Barbie Doll. I've taught her how to threw big punches for a chick, smoke weed, handle a date-rape situation, chug down tequila shots and everything she needed to know about the bad and the ugly out there. Now she was strong and she fought her own battles; it almost softened me with nostalgia to remember the girl cowering behind Drew and her reign of terror last year.

I noticed Jason's shirt- a faded old t-shirt with the quote:_ Everybody's youth is a dream; a form of chemical madness_. "Preach it," I laughed, swirling my wine.

"Huh?" he was confused.

"Your shirt. I like it."

"Aha," he made that vague, coughy loud sound again. Nervous and shy, as always. "Yeah, it's ah- a quote from my favourite author."

"Ooh, a boy who reads? That explains the aura of sophistication."

He blushed, cheeks tinged cherry red. "Yeah," he said tentatively, as if he was afraid I might smacked him as nerd for his supreme love for books or something.

"It's spectacular," I said, giving him that boost of confidence.

He scratched the back of his head anxiously, the wine bottle I handed towards him forgotten. "Really?"

"Yep. It's hard to find people who actually reads nowadays," I smiled fondly at him. "Most people spend their times on social media, watching comically bad television shows."

He laughed- genuinely too. Humour sparkling in his eyes and enthusiasm invigorated in his upright body posture. "That's true."

"What's the author name?" I prodded at the shirt.

"Scott F. Fitzgerald."

"Isn't he the guy that, like, went crazy or something?"

"Sent to an asylum," he mused and I felt him eased up, growing more confident with every word. But it was a good type of confidence, where he found reassurance instead of arrogance. A kind confidence where he knew what to say and the words just right out of his mouth. I listened while he talked, his voice soft-spoken. He was in his zone now. "He was an amazing writer- and not only for the Great Gatsby. To me, my favourite was The Beautiful and the Damned, even if the Great Gatsby was the most popular and advertised. My father like to argue how his ideals were fanatical, but sometimes fanatical is a little of what we need in this world."

"Amen to that." I toasted a drink to his words, swallowing the warm fizzy liquid. He smiled more often too; and it was bright enough to light up my world. "So is that what you want? To be a writer?"

He cowered once again, hesitant to tell the truth as if he was afraid I might laugh at his ambition. I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, levelling my gaze to collide with his and silently telling him it was alright. "Yeah," he nodded, "I would like to, but-" There was that awkward laugh again- "-I don't know."

"It's good you still have dreams," I admired longingly; couldn't help but envy his innocence. Man, this kid was breaking my heart. Dreams? Heroes? I'd quit thinking 'bout that shit way before I hit the pubes. "Mine's dead."

"Ridiculous," he admonished, "You're too young to be that cynical."

"I'm a teenager," I reminded him, "I'm never too young to be cynical."

"It's still so stupid."

"You're such a dreamer," I shook my head. "Even if I had a dream, how can a fuck-up like me ever achieve it?" I gave a bitter laugh, finishing the last of the wine and throwing it across the bin, shattering the glass into pieces. The noise echoed over the resonating thin walls. "I'm a fuck up, remember?"

"No you're not," he was adamant on telling me.

"Hmm," I mumbled evasively, "Do you think a fuck-up like you can achieve it? I mean, you are less of a fuck up than I am…"

"Probably not. Dad wants me to be like a lawyer or something."

"Screw him," I said dismissively, putting my head on his shoulder. He didn't try to wrap an arm around me. Probably too shy, I registered. "You do what you want," I punched him in the arm and he rubbed it, yelping when my fist contacted his flesh. "Nobody can tell you otherwise."

"He's my dad."

"So?" I demanded. "Don't let him push you around! Grow a fucking backbone." I pushed the wine into his hands and clambered onto my feet, standing on the metal kitchen table, my head nearly colliding into the swinging low lights and ceiling.

"What are you doing?" hissed Jason, eyes alarmed and body in position to bolt. "We could-"

"Take a drink and stand up," I ordered, my words slurring slightly and my enunciation was off. The alcohol buzz was only starting to settle in and I was deterring off the rails. He was reluctant to stand up, so I pulled him by the hand and forced him on his feet. "'Kay, good. Now, you say this with me. Yell it out, okay? 'STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO FUCKING DO, DAD.' Yell it out! Yell it until your throat breaks!"

"But-" he went cross-eyed. "What if we get in trouble? What if the school catches us? My dad will kill me."

I sighed, massaging my temples with my fingers. "Jason, Jason, Jason," I tutted. "This is the Wilderness, a place for fuck-ups like you and me. The school's supposed to teach you how not to be a fuck-up, and if they tell your parents about you fucking up, it's obviously not working and your parents won't be continuing paying for this. Therefore, we'll be in trouble but they won't tell our parents that you're fucking up more than you already should." I concluded cheerily, as if it justified everything. "So get your slimy ass up and start yellin', dude."

He sighed, eyeing me from his folded-legs position.

"Stop telling me what to do, dad."

"That was pathetic. Louder, and with the swear words."

"But…" Irresolution halted his decisions but I was insistent.

"With the swear words!"

"Do I really have to?"

"Yes!" I said boisterously, "You do!"

"Fine," he sighed, and rose his voice in volume: "Stop telling me what to fucking do, Dad!"

"Again! Louder."

"STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO FUCKING DO, DAD!"

"Yeah!" I yelled in agreement and high-fived him, collapsing into a mass of laughter. "You fucking said it, man!" I wrapped my arms around him into a hug, as we stood high and inebriated on the kitchen steel tables, and our faces were dangerously inches apart, nose grazing as I grinned at him, teeth showing through the gap of pink.

Without thinking, I rotated my head to fit his mouth and kissed him, coiling my arms around his neck. I kissed him until it was blue and black, with stars dancing in my eyes, alcohol buzzing in our veins, and infinity waiting to swallow us up. I kissed him, letting him believe we were built to fix ourselves when we were meant to fall apart.

The next morning I woke up to Miss Hestia shaking me on the arm. I've realized Jason and I had curled our bodies together on the metal kitchen table. Now get your head our gutter- we didn't have sex. We just slept at the same place, I noticed as Miss Hestia prodded Jason in the arm as well, earning a moan, his arms created a sense of protection by the way they encompassed around me. I didn't know what to be at the most surprised at- the fact that we hadn't had sex yet, or the fact that he hadn't even thought about initiating sex yet.

Most guys usually jumped at the chance. But I guessed Jason wasn't like most guys. _No_, I thought as my finger traced circles onto his chest exposed by his V-neck, most definitely not. Jason was the most peculiar. I traced circles and stars, flowers even. But not hearts. Never hearts. Hearts were taboos. I felt the steadied, soft thrum of his heartbeat repeatedly drumming beneath his chest, his breathing deep and calm. Even though he was on the nerdy side, Jason was actually quite athletic. He wasn't excessively muscular, but he wasn't weedy either- he was a medium, with muscles at all the right places.

_Must have passed out_, I groggily assumed as I staggered onto my feet, yawning. "Jason," I whispered into his ear, shaking his arm. "Wake up, sexy."

"Hmm?" his eyes fluttered and blue eyes gazed hazily at me as sleep receded slowly from his brain. "P-piper?"

"That's right," I said, smirking. "Sleep well?"

He rubbed his stiff neck, "Not really."

I laughed, "Yep, me too. But I had fun. Come on, let's get back before our roommates start panicking."

"Okay."

It was only the crack of dawn and it was a good ole' Sunday, so nobody in their right mind was awake yet. I've led him towards his dorm and bid him goodbye by kissing him lightly on his cheek, my lips rubbing against his skin. As we parted, I saw a mane of black hair flashing at the corner of my eye from a small gap of a dorm room door. Thalia, I realized at the familiarity of the choppy layered hair but I pushed it out of my mind as I set a smile on my face and gave him a kiss on the lips, the taste of strawberry wine sizzling as a reminder of our lips.

And then we've bid each other goodbye.

* * *

**Announcement: I might be, um, 'quiting' Fanfiction. **

**MIGHT. JUST MIGHT. I mean, I've been writing on here since...2011. And if you've paid attention to any of my notes, I've mentioned I'm writing a book and several originals on Figment and Wattpad. With my harder school years approaching, I wanted to prioritize my writing and I was trying to choose between writing originals and fanfiction. I might not completely give up and let cobwebs to infiltrate this site but I doubt I'll be able to update as often as I can. Since it's my holidays, I'll try my best to write more than often so I can get most of the plots I've planned up and running. This goes for Desire as well.**

**I hope you guys understand.**

**Please review!**


	5. Minimized Casualties

**SO UM. I'M BACK. **

**I can blame it on two things A) SCHOOL. B) Wattpad. My Wattpad had exploded, my stories peaking up in pupularity and also the fact that I manage a trailer and cover shop it's a bit taxing to update...not to mention the writer's block. But nonetheless, I'm back and I made the cover! What do you think of the cover? **

**ahahahaha. don't kill me. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own shit. **

Chapter 5

"Minimized Casualties"

Jason

Leo was still asleep, snoring loudly and drooling on his pillow when I crawled back into my bed. I stripped myself out of the clothes soiled in strawberry champagne and pulled the covers of my bed over my head to grab several hours of sleep before the day started.

But I didn't have the chance to sneak in so much of a wink when five minutes later I was woken up with a horn blasting in my ear, cold stinging water splashed on my head and Coach Hedge screaming in my face.

"Get up!" he hollered as he pulled my blankets off my bed and threw it onto the floor. Blearily, my eyes snapped open and before I had a chance to groggily remember where the fuck am I at, he yanked me by my shirt, then imitated the same gesture by tossing me onto the floor like a sack of flour. I landed painfully on the linoleum floor, groaning. "Get your ass changed and down by the courtyard in five!"

I barely knew what was going on through the receding haze of exhaution, except a burly extremely short buff man dressed in an orange polo shirt and gym track shorts was standing over me, thoroughly pissed off.

"I said get off your ass!" Spit landed on me, giving me my shower already.

"Okay...okay…" I mumbled absentmindedly, half asleep as I scrambled onto my feet and hauled ass into the shower. The cold water woke me up instantly, like hail raining down my back as the water rushed over me. I quickly brushed my teeth, put on my gym shorts and an old t-shirt, chucked on my running shoes and sprint down the hall of boring beige walls and fluorescent lights.

It was a new kind of hell. The Wilderness School's morning routine was literal hell. It was some kind of communist workout regime where everybody had to be up by seven thirty, down at the courtyard ready for the ten kilometre sprint around the desert. I didn't even know it was a thing, or a customary tradition until the coach was shouting at me to get my ass down for the morning workout but apparently it was. Percy, Will, Nico, hell even Leo was on time, lining up single file at the courtyard where every student was assembling, dressed in running gear.

"Dude, you're so busted," whispered Leo as I arrived into the scorching heat.

"Now because of some stupid cupcake was late, we're behind schedule," barked the Coach. "So you'll be running extra five kilometres."

Everybody groaned and sent me evil looks. I bristled. How the hell was I supposed to know? Not to mention, it was totally unlogical. Shouldn't we be running less miles if we were running behind time? "Partner up and start running. Don't lose track of the trail and don't get lost! If you do, you're just causing me more paperwork."

I swallowed. Was the guy serious? And partners? I glanced around. Leo had partnered up with some guy named Jake, Percy was with Annabeth- no surprises there and Nico was with Will. Oh great, this was like gym class all over again.

"Hey baby, wanna be my partner?"

Piper was behind me, tapping my shoulder. She was also in gear; a pair of black running shorts and a tight bright orange tank. Her hair was pulled up into ponytail and she was wearing her signature smirk, which I've been accustomed to handling so I managed the sentence without stumbling. "Yeah, um, why not?"

She shot me a sly smile, eyeing me in my vest. "Oh and try to keep up, will you? I go really fast."

"Yeah- yeah, um, sure."

She took off before I even know we were supposed to start.

She wasn't kidding when she meant she was 'fast'. Her legs kept pumping, eating up the faint dust trail of the desert the school had laid out. We jogged from the school courtyard out from the open fences they've unchained at the outer quarters of the school to the unorchestrated wild horizons of the Arizona desert. She was so fast, the only thing I could follow was the back of her head- her dark mahogany hair was a speck of colour against the gold sands.

I've struggled to keep up, because I was more of the type who preferred the indoors than outdoors. I was a born San Francisco kid who moved to New York; the heat was stifling and it physically drained me, soaking me in sweat as I licked my lips, thirsty and criticizing myself for not bringing a bottle of water.

We ran until my legs started to ache over the strain of overexertion but Piper still kept going, her fists pumping as her music blasted in her ears. Music, I thought, my head picturing to my battered iPhone 4 sitting on his desk, bring it with you next time.

Finally, we stopped for a rest. Piper rested her body on a large sandy rock, gasping and panting as she poured water all over her, causing her skin to become slick and wet, glistening in the sunlight.

"Tired?" she smiled mysteriously.

"Exhausted."

She chuckled in spite of herself. "You might want to get in shape. The school makes us run like this...everyday."

I gawped at her. "Everyday?!"

"Exactly."

"So do I have to kill myself to get out of it or...?"

"Maybe. Come on, let's ditch this. I got something to show you."

I glanced across the endless horizons of blue sky and golden sand, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Won't we get lost?"

"You're with me," she whispered, locking hands with mine. I tried not to be hyper-aware, analyzing and over thinking every detail of her hands, how small and delicate they were, how her skin was surprisingly soft. "You won't get lost. And even if you did," her lips curled up to that mysterious smile of hers, as if they were hiding a bunch of secrets. She's such a mystery that even she doesn't understand herself. "Would that be so bad?"

She led me across the cacti, walking through the harsh desert land. It was terminally hot now with the sweat pearling down my neck, dribbling from my ears, making my hair stick to my damp forehead.

"Do you have...any...water?" I licked my parched lips just to hydrate. She nodded, unscrew the cap of her water bottle and handed it to me. I tilted it into my mouth and lapped it up like a starving child from Africa because goddamn it, we were in the place where it could pretty much melt the whole freaking Antarctica.

We kept walking until we were pretty sure done for because I was definitely convinced we were miles away from the school and we were now food for desert geckos. Eventually, we came about a large rock formation, like the Uluru in Central Australia, rising into the sky. it's dark earthen red colour contrasted with the robin blue sky.

"Wow."

"We're here," said Piper loftily, smiling at the rock. "This is my favourite place in the world."

"We're going to climb that?"

"Just a bit of it," she tucked in a loose strand from her ponytail. "It's a good view of everything. Come on."

If it wasn't for my utter fascination in her unpredictable, totally unprecedented outlook of life, I wouldn't have followed her- albeit reluctantly. Together, with scrapy hands and knees, we painstakingly ascended the rocky mountain. Piper helped me a bit because she was obviously an expert in coming out here but she didn't protest or call me a wimp when I had particular trouble with navigating through a slippery cliff.

We stopped at a point where the rock protruded out, like a ledge. Piper was right. The view was spectacular, priceless almost, and nearly worth the climb. Below us, birds circled. The sight stole the oxygen from his lungs. It was a thick expansion of orange gilded golden sand for miles, with rolling blue skies and faint earthy mountains in the distance. Green cactus dotted the landscape. She sat on the dusty ledge, smiling wildly as her legs dangle beneath the edge.

Piper Mclean was unlike any other girl I've ever met- I noticed this. She didn't looked like Annabeth, who was blonde, tall and athletically skinny- which wasn't a bad thing. Piper was petite, by the height of five foot three, but God, she was curvy. Her breasts strained against her neon orange tank top, a shade that made her bronze skin popped. While other girls were lanky and thinner than Piper, Piper had boobs. It's not like I never noticed girls had boobs before. But it was like I never learned how to appreciate the definite importance of curves until Piper crashed landed into my galaxy. She took off her running shoes, dumping them behind her, and balled up her socks, then placed them in her shoes. Her bare toes swung up and down, her rainbow painted toenails dancing and wiggling.

"Your nails are all painted a different colour."

"Fantastic observation," she commented, though I couldn't distinguish whether she was sarcastic. "I feel if I painted my nails all the same colour, I'd be discrimnating all the others." She extracted a cigarette pack from one of the pockets of her running shorts and lit it up.

"Want one?" She shook the box.

"Yeah sure."

"One last time, kid. The next you should buy your own cigarettes." I hated how she called me 'kid' in that patronising tone of hers, as if I was a ten year old kid who didn't understand what she's talking about. It was bad enough that I had an older sister who treated me like I was in kindergarten. I didn't need another one.

"Ha." Our cherry tips ignited and instantly smoke flew up into the day. Her eyes changed colour into the same shade of the desert rock; an amber-orange with flecks of honey gold.

"So," she exhaled, expelling a gust of smoke from her lips, "What's your story?"

"What? What story?"

She rolled her eyes, like my lack of knowledge and awareness exasperated her. "Your tale before the Wilderness."

"I don't have a story."

She gave me an odd look. "What are you on? Everybody has a story."

"Well, I doubt you want to hear it," I said. "It's terribly unextraordinary."

"Then bore me with it, Sparky."

"Uh, well I was born and raised in San Francisco."

"Let me stop you right there, Grace. I hate the word 'well'."

"How so?"

"Because 'well' is such a filler word. What does it do in your sentence? Absolutely nothing. Does it communicate the message you're supposed to get across? No. What's the point of saying 'well' other than saying how you're feeling?" She crossed her arms, impassioned about the subject. Her cigarette was perchrd in between her fingers as she stared at the hotizon, her jaw setting. "Well is just a word to make you sound more clever, or more superior, or making things more vague to sound smart. Well is a way to escape what you really want to say because you're afraid of how others will react."

"Damn." I uttered softly, surprised at her thoughts. "I never looked at it that way."

"Because you never bother with looking at all." Piper blew out a cloud, billowing in perfect smoke rings along with the dry wind. She giggled and smiled at the smoke rings disappearing, "God, I'm such a pretentious little shit."

"You're not."

She arched an eyebrow. "You're a pretentious little shit too, Grace. At least I'm not afraid to admit it."

"Well-" she shot me a cross look, "I'm a wimp. I'm easily frightened."

"That's true," she teased me. "It's okay- I'm afraid of things too."

"You, afraid?" I echoed; the possibility of Piper Mclean afraid struck me as well...a nonpossibity. "A girl like you shouldn't be afraid of anything."

"I'm afraid of boys with extremely large moustaches, funerals, butterflies and falling."

The first one made me laugh, the second was morbid, the third was conventionally conventional and the fourth was the one that stood out. "Do you mean heights?"

Her foot swayed back and forth the edge of the cliffs and drily looked at me, "Does it seems like I'm afraid of heights?"

"Not really," I admitted. "Why falling?"

"Just the thought of descending without any control scares the fuck out of me. Anyway, back on point; your story."

"Well-"

She glared at me.

"Okay, okay." I huffed, sucking my cigarette dry, "Born and raised in San Francisco, then I moved to New York just last year and-"

"Oh my God!" She exclaimed, "I meant the interesting stuff. You're, like, the worst storyteller. Ever."

"Fine, jeez. My parents are politicians-"

"Those soul sucking corporate moguls that everybody hates?"

"Yeah."

"See? That's interesting."

"-and my parents...I guess they can be harsh. They expect me to be the perfect one. Thalia's the fuck-up. So I have to set an example."

"Jesus," she widened her eyes- and it was strange that I fascinate her when she's a much more intriguing speciment. "That's fucked up. But at least they care- in a fucked up way."

"Why?" I prompted, looking at her. "What's up with yours?" I was an exceptionally slow smoker but Piper worked them through like they were water. It was barely ten minutes and she was already lighting another one.

"My mom left before I was born so it's a pretty self-explanatory that she's a cowardly bitch," shrugged Piper nonchalantly, "And my Dad..." she laughed sardonically, "He's not any better."

"He can't be so bad."

"He pretends he cares but he's never there. And it's like "Don't fuck things up, Piper" but what the hell I can't care enough to enforce you not to fuck up. He lectures me not to do shit but at the end of the day, he's pretty much like: do whatever the fuck you want. So I did. And that's how I end up here."

The words were out of my mouth before I could control them. "I'm sorry."

Piper didn't say anything except for: "I'm sorry too."

"For what?"

"That I can't give you what you want." She finished her second cigarette and looked at the one I'm halfway through. "You're going to finish that?"

"What do you mean you can't-"

"It means that kiss doesn't mean anything. It's just-" For once in my life of seeing her, she appeared uncomfortable, "-I do stuff like that. I do things on impulse, like kissing you. I hope you know it doesn't mean, well, anything."

I blinked back furious tears. "But...I thought you liked me..."

She sighed, "I do like you, Sparky. Goddamn it, you're adorable." I swear to God I hated the word adorable, or anything remotely synonymous, to the extent of Piper hating the word 'well'. "If I could, I'd take you to Vegas, marry you and consummate the hell out of you. But I...I'm a fuckup. I break everything I fucking touch and you-" she paused for a while to take a drag, "-deserve better. I'm minimizing the casualties. This is something to watch for before you start fantasizing about forever. Trust me, Sparky, I'll snap your heart into two like a twig."

"Maybe you're just saying that because you're afraid I'll break yours instead."

She laughed slightly, as if the suggestion was so ridiculous and silly. "Nobody breaks my heart." She glanced at her watch. "You know what? We should get back now- or not, we'll get both our asses whipped."

Throughout the whole way back, we didn't say anything else.

* * *

**So, um, like how many John Green references did you catch? And please review. :)**

**-savvy.**


	6. Heartbreaker's Strings

**So I don't own anything. Sorry for the OOCness. **

**This is kind of based something I saw on Wattpad. Anybody heard of Saving Elliot (ugh my heart)? Yeah, you could tell I was inspired. **

Chapter 6

Heartbreaker's Strings

Piper

I couldn't believe I almost told him. Stupid. Stupid. This was why you put up a force field around yourself, Piper, so you can't let anyone in. My music blasted into my ear as we jogged back, the beat thumping into my head. I purposely chose not to say anything, personally because I felt like there was nothing to say after warning somebody you might fuck up their heart. There was something in his eyes, akin to the sounds of porcelain shards shattering, like I broke all the strings inside of him- but no, that wasn't the case. I was trying to prevent that from happening by giving a fair warning. The first thing I'll notice from Sparky was how violently blue his eyes were, electrifyingly terrifying by the way they seemed able to burn your skin more than any passing remark but when his smile spilt open his face and those eyes became friendly.

Yes, I was afraid I might've cut some strings inside of him. But it was better than being utterly unrepairable.

Relief flooded back into Jason's expression when he saw the familiar rise of the campus buildings. His cheeks were puffy red, panting out like a dog in heat, but I turned away almost immediately in aloofness so he wouldn't catch me looking.

Finally, we sprinted the last hundred metres into the school's courtyard, entering the open fence chainlink. Coach Hedge yelled at us upon our arrival, screaming we were "a bunch of slowpoke cupcakes". He said the word cupcake so often I was beginning to suspect a possible fetish.

And it was then the realization dawned on me that it had been thirty minutes since I had my last cigarette.

I walked over to my hidden spot, the bench behind my dorm where Mr Brunner wouldn't catch me while I was taking a drag personally because I was mentally ill-prepared for a battle of wits or another detention. Then there was a spark, a fizz of a red black flame, the smell of smoke and then I was heaving through corrupted lungs, the nicotine stale in my mouth, the cherry tip guiding me.

The last time I came here was with Jason. I folded my legs and looked around, remembering the tingle travelling up my spine when we first kissed, our lips colliding. It was such a good kiss; a kiss that melt between us, the kind of kiss that told me every other kiss I had was wrong.

I thought of how we would look to other people- a blond, pale boy and a dark-skinned girl. What an unlikely pair. The boy who wants to be a saint and the girl who paid her dues in sins.

For the past few days, it was no secret I was avoiding him. And I knew he knew it too. He had that kicked puppy expression, mouth drooping every time I turned the opposite direction in the halls. I wished he understood I didn't want to hurt him- everything I touch, their strings snap. Like scissors over a sewing seam, like something heavy on something fragile.

I'm like a hurricane that forgot how to breathe. But that's okay because I filled my lungs with other things, such as gravel, wine, cigarette smoke, shards of broken hearts.

"Everything you touch, they break. You're a heartbreaker, Piper Mclean, and that's all you'll ever be." I can't remember who told me that because all the people whose heart I've broken...their voices kind of blend into one. I was surprisingly unhurt by that statement and I wore the title with pride- clearly with wine-stained lips and hardened eyes- because it was the only title I had.

_Victim: Isaac Yurok. When: Sixth Grade. Breaker: Piper Mclean._

The first pair of strings I've ever broke was in sixth grade. His name was Isaac, he was my first kiss, I was twelve years old and had no idea what was going on. Isaac was my next door neighbour in Oklahoma; we grew up together, riding bikes to the nearby pond to feed the ducks. It was like a daily ritual that almost everyday we would bring two pieces of bread to the bridge and toss chunks of it while discussing general topics.

Isaac's ancestry was Native American as well so naturally we were bound to get along- he wasn't a Cherokee though. He was part of the Hupa tribe. Isaac was like every other twelve year old boy, with their interests never extending far from football and video games, so it kind of a shock when he asked me:

"Hey, Pipes?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever kissed somebody?"

I was kind of baffled so it took me a while to answer. "You mean, besides my dad?"

Isaac laughed nervously. Even then, it was obvious that Isaac was going to be extremely good-looking. "Yeah."

"No."

He feigned interest at the algae gathering by the legs of the bridge. "Me too." There was a soft silence of birds quaking. The day was kind of beautiful: thin wisps of silky clouds float through the hollow turquoise sky as the sun bathed the whole world in it's radiant incandescent light.

"Do...you...wanna try?" Isaac wondered, looking at me anxiously.

"Uh..." I didn't really know what to say. "I guess?"

"Cool." Another awkward pause. "So should I...?"

"Um...okay..."

Isaac leaned over and I could see every detail of his face; those long lashes fluttering, the amber of his eyes ever so present, his big brown curls bouncing, the curve of his nose and a sense of panic swell in my chest but before I knew it, I felt his lips on mine.

It was...awkward.

There was no tongue, of course, but his lips just felt solid...so hard against mine. It lasted two seconds.

"Wow," he stared at me in this dazed way. Why was he saying 'wow'? It was not that spectacular.

The few days after the kiss, it was like there was this invisible string tied betwene us. Isaac became bsessed with me. I mean, he would follow me around school, he smiled at me more times than he usually did and there was once when I was walking down the hallway and he just walked up to me to hold my hand.

"What are you doing?" I flinched.

"Well, I'm holding your hand."

"Yeah, that's wrong."

"Why is it wrong?"

"Because you never hold my hand."

"Well, maybe I want to change that." I blinked at him. Was he serious?

"What do you mean you want to change that? We've been friends for nearly nine years and you've never held my hand."

"Because," he whispered so softly, gazing at me, "I...was hoping, well…" Spit it out, I thought, uncharacteristically annoyed. After all, he hadn't really done anything particularly wrong. "I was hoping we could be...together."

"We're always together after school, Isaac."

A flush came faintly on his cheeks. "I mean, like kissing...and stuff."

"Um, okay."

"Okay?

"Yeah, okay."

It was never going to last with Isaac. Isaac was incredibly boring. All he ever wanted to talk about was how he managed to score some impossibly high score on Minecraft or whatever, or how well he did in sports. He would always listen to the same mediocre punk-rock band who weren't even that good or that original, no matter how awesome it was he claimed. He always had the same brand of chips, watched the same type of movies and drank the same type of soft drink. I couldn't remember the last time I had an intelligent conversation with him and I couldn't even remember if we ever did had an intelligent conversation. Maybe it was best that we remained the friends who went to the pond together to feed the ducks.

"Hey, Isaac?"

"Hmm?" He glanced up from a game of Clash of Clans.

"I was thinking we should break up." There. I said it. Fast, to the point and straightforward. Like pulling off a bandaid.

"What?"

I sighed slowly. "Break up, dude. We should break up."

"But…" He faltered. There was no sound except for the buzzing of his iPhone. "I thought we were…"

"I don't know," I claimed lamely. "I'm kind of bored. Aren't you?" _Because you're inadequately interesting._

He was injured, recoiling, eyes flashing. "No. Why?"

"Because...I don't know." I winced at my repetition. "I'm….just...I think we should break up, y'know?"

He clenched his teeth harshly, gritting them. "Fine." He stood up and left my house, slamming the front door behind him.

Let's just say we never fed the ducks together anymore.

* * *

_Victim: Caleb Wintry. When: Summer of Sixth Grade. Breaker: Piper Mclean._

Caleb was a much better kisser. Well, better than Isaac anyway. But he wilted against Jason.

* * *

_Victim: Sawyer Green. When: Seventh Grade Winter Break. Breaker: Piper Mclean._

Sawyer was a poet. He strung words together, connect them like jigsaw puzzles and left an impression of me, had me bubbling in amazement and fascination at his articulation and made me obsessed with dead poets. He was kind of a nerd and not my type, with his large glasses and big crooked nose. He would write these idealistic poems about me, something about my mahogany hair and whatnot, my monumental curves and painting me in lights of a goddess...though I was pretty sure he did the same for all the girls he ever romanced. He was probably the only teenager I've ever seen shamelessly used the word 'thou' but he was the reason why I started reading.

We dated for six months.

It was a Tuesday when we broke up. The Smiths was playing softly on the stereo in the background and he was studying for the test, softly humming to the tune as I stared at the ceiling.

"_Take me home tonight_," he sung, tapping his foot lightly to the percussion, and he doesn't have that bad of a voice actually. Maybe if he worked on it, he could become famous or whatever. "_Where's that music and there's people who are young and alive…_"

"You sing nicely," I remembered saying after a few verses in.

He blushed faintly, roses colouring his cheeks. "Thanks, Piper. I've written a poem about you." I resisted the biting comment: You're always writing poems about me. He cleared his throat: "She's of wine-stained lips and broken shards/ Sometimes she's here but sometimes she's far/ With empty places and empty hearts/ She sees people for who they are."

"Wow." And I actually meant it. It was one of the few that I liked.

"Thanks."

"To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die," he hummed, his lilt enchanting the room. He smiled at me, in that adorably angelic way, while his cheeks puffed out. "What you're thinking about?"

"Hmm?" I mumbled absently. "Oh, uh, nothing."

He leaned forward on his chair and gazed at me teasingly, then prodded me on my shoulder. "Come on, tell me!"

"I was..uh...thinking about breaking up."

Beat.

The realization of my words dawned on him and the happiness completely vanished from his face. Every trace of it.

"What?"

"I want to break up."

He looked inexplicably sad- no, not sad. Utterly crushed. I tried to feel sad too but I couldn't. What was wrong with me? It was like Isaac all over again, the memories bitter and ripe in my mind, but worse, because Sawyer was a sweetheart. It was like killing Bambi.

"I'm sorry," I said lamely.

"Oh," he was so lost. "Okay."

I swallowed painfully. "Sawyer, I'm…"

"It's okay."

"I'll...uh...see you around."

I ran out of his room like it was on fire. The next time I saw him was at a local restaurant. It was six months later and he was in a band now. No longer geeky Sawyer with his journals of poems. He avoided eye contact with me as he said: "This song is about a girl who tore my heart open."

The drums kicked in first, then the guitar riff followed. And later, Sawyer's voice:

_She's of wine-stained lips and broken shards_

_Sometimes she's here but sometimes she's so far_

_She wears an empty heart on her sleeve_

_Because she likes to_ _snap those strings_

The song eventually finished with a rousing applause. My father told me they were kind of spectacular and imagined them to be famous a few years down the road. I nodded along and feigned specific interest at my shoes. He asked me if I knew who the girl was in the song and I replied that I had no idea.

* * *

_Victim: Lance Whitecross. When: Summer in California before Eighth Grade. Breaker: Piper Mclean._

Her father was never around anymore. And Lance provided a suitable, kissable distraction.

* * *

_Victim: David Markell. Victim: Jamie Alridge. Victim: Chris Kamps. Victim: Angelo Locatelli. When: Eighth Grade. Breaker: Piper Mclean._

I only remembered sporadic bursts of my love life in eighth grade and they came flooding back in strangest details, small tiny favourites of all the boys' strings I'd ever snapped:

_David._

He was half Irish and half Asian.

He was an actual redhead.

His favourite colour was maroon.

He loved ice cream, possibly more than he ever loved me.

And he kissed gently, not rough like the way I want it to be.

_Jamie._

He was a New Yorker.

He loved baseball.

His number was 809-234-7554.

And he always smelled of pine aftershave.

_Chris._

He bought me my first cigarette carton.

He liked heavy metal.

His birthday was sometime in September.

He had an older brother literally named Talon.

_Angelo._

Due to his heritage, he really really liked spaghetti.

He spoke Italian.

He was a great cook and made fantastic pesto.

He was my first time.

His favourite word was 'regime'.

* * *

_Victim: Dylan Pierce. When: Ninth Grade. Breaker: Piper Mclean._

Funnily enough, Dylan was a manwhore, he sinned as much as I did and he went through girls as swiftly as I went through boys. He would play girls. He would pretend he cared about them so he could sleep with them and never call hem the next day. I guess I kind of did that too. But at least people knew what they were getting into when they want me.

The thing about Dylan was that we knew what we were when we first laid eyes on each other. It was at a party thrown by some bitch I didn't even like at my third or fourth private school- I couldn't remember. Dylan's eyes were grey and cloudy, probably because he was on his fifth beer, and though he was staggering and enunciating words like a severely brain-damaged three year old, it didn't take long for us to hook up on the backseat of his dad's Jeep. Sure, I was fifteen but I was well-versed in lust.

Dylan was hot, extremely hot with grey eyes and tousled sandy hair, and because of that I hooked up with him more times than I would care to admit but there was nothing really beyond that because frankly Dylan was kind of an obnoxious asshole who think he's all that. He was hot and that was the only reason I put up with him. But I'm materialistic like that: I see a face and not feelings.

This was how our break up went.

"Jesus," I arched my back, my body shaking in waves of pleasure. My head curled in the satisfaction that Dylan was by far the best fuck I've ever had and the further I've ever went, according to the base system. First, second, third base base base and home run baby. "God…"

Dylan smirked, "Good."

I rolled my eyes and we disentangled, falling back into the sheets. "Fucking amazing."

"So do you think we can do that again sometime?" He always asked that question after we were done.

"Maybe," I shrugged nonchalantly, reaching for a boot. "It depends." On how long it'll take me to get kicked out. Again.

"Well, uh…" he trailed off, looking at me with those grey eyes. "In case you change your mind." I didn't.

"Yeah."

"Cool."

I zipped up my jeans, slipped on my bra, then shirt and head out. I never saw Dylan again and I still haven't changed my mind.

* * *

_Victim: Leo Valdez. When: Tenth Grade. Breaker: Piper Mclean._

"Those cigarettes are going to kill you one day, Beauty Queen," was what he said on the day we broke up and honestly, he said it so many times it was kind of insignificant but it was the only thing I could remember Leo ever since.

"So?" I shrugged. "Let it."

We were in his dorm, much to chagrin of the no opposite sex in a room rule, and he was working on some major engineering project or whatever, I didn't really care.

"They're not good for you," he continued, not looking as he sketched a circle on a blueprint.

"I'm not good for you, Leo," I reminded him, lips curving around my cigarette. "Never stopped you before."

He tilted his head up, then craned his neck to take a good look at me, soaking me up, digesting the fact that I was- for a fleeting moment- his. "True," he admitted wistfully and smiling sardonically, "I can't win with you, can I?"

"Nobody wins with me, Valdez."

They were silent for a while, except for the sound of Leo's pencil scratching his paper and the chatter of next door dorm mates talking. I've been at the Wilderness for six months and I've kind of liked it, or maybe it just grown on me. I kind of liked Leo because he was funny and maybe one of the few people who truly mattered. But of course, for the sake of keeping routine and upholding my heartbreaker reputation, I didn't think about it.

"So how come you're mad at Thalia?"

"How come you care?"

He blinked. "Well- because- I-" He gaped at me, like a fish out of water. "I love you." Every other girl would've framed the moment and put it on the wall because goddamn, he said it. He said those three words. But I just get pissed, y'know? I didn't want people to love me because I'll just destroy them. How do you know what is love anyway? There was no defining term. Leo was a sixteen year old boy. He didn't know love at all. And I did but I didn't have it.

"Well, I don't."

"You what?"

"Yeah, I don't love you," I exhaled, smoke jutting out out like clouds. "Can we break up?"

"What?" His confusion was giving way to hurt. "I thought we-"

* * *

"I'm not good for you, Leo."

"But-"

"I'm sorry."

"We both know you're not."

I smiled bitterly, way too bitterly for a sixteen year old. "Yeah."

"You're heartless, Piper Mclean. A heartless bitch."

I sighed. "Tell me somebody I don't know." I knew my cue in this play now so I showed myself the way out.

Out of all the breakups I've committed, Leo was the one I had with most clarity because it was the most recent and strangely potent, probably because it was the first time I was aware I didn't have a heart- or maybe I did, but I lost it when my Dad decided he didn't want have anything to do with me.


	7. Good Girls Say I Love You

**i guess im back.**

**disclaimer: all belongs to RR.**

Chapter 7

Good Girls Say "I Love You"

_Jason_

After a series of early morning marathons and gruelling physical exertion the Wilderness School seemed to love torturing us with, I felt my body slowly shaping up. Running didn't seemed too hard anymore and my breathing had started to pace itself, leaving me not as breathless and tired as I used to be.

School always went on, like life did, slugging on it's heavy feet and dragging us forcefully like a chain behind a truck. Much to the surprise of the student body, nothing much happened. It was shockingly mundane, which wasn't what I was expecting from a school filled with delinquents. I didn't exactly _know _what I was expecting but it was more along the lines of knives fight, girls getting pregnant left and right and me being the awkward and scrawny sixteen year old I was, getting pummelled to death almost instantly. But the Wilderness was more or less a normal school. It was still hot as fuck in Armpit, Nevada, and I still took cold showers to stop myself from spontaneously combusting. We still journeyed over to the small cheap-ass pit-stop town for beers with Annabeth, Percy and the gang. We still whined and bitched about being stuck in the middle of nowhere. Basically, if you were to leave and come back, nothing would change.

On the bright side (or not so bright side, depending on preferences), my lessons had finally began- the only prospect I looked forward to in this burning fiery pit of a hellhole. My most anticipated lesson was English.

"How the _hell _did you get into AP English?" grumbled Leo as he snatched my schedule from my fingers without any warning but I was slowly getting used to that. It wasn't Leo being rude. It was Leo being Leo.

"Because," I said, lacking unoriginal content because I was deprived of my morning coffee due to Leo forgetting to switch on the alarm and both of us rushing down to breakfasts like madmen. I made a grab for my schedule but Leo ducked out of the way, "I'm smart."

My response was laughter but I rolled my eyes. "Whatever," Leo said, trying and failing to compose himself, "You're lucky you have Mr Brunner. Almost ten percent of the people that takes his class turn out _not _to be dumbass shitheads."

I gave the obligatory chuckle at 'dumbass shitheads'. "Right, whatever. Have fun in Spanish."

"Of course, I will," smirked Leo, splitting away me to the lower ground where his class was located. "It's the only class I can skip and _still _pass."

Leo hopped off to learn Spanish, or to quote 'sleep in Spanish' while I hugged my books to my chest as I travelled across the corridor to find the classroom written on my schedule. Eventually, I found it. It was a neat classroom, smelling of lemon bleach, with rows of desks and half-filled with students but apparently, according to Mr Brunner, it was the whole class.

"Ah," Mr Brunner clapped his hand together when he saw Jason by the doorway. "A newcomer."

"Hi," I said awkwardly (because when was I never awkward), shifting from foot to foot. I scanned the classroom and there was only one person I recognized, which was Rachel Dare. She was amongst the calibre of people, her red curly hair was a neon flare. She waved at me when she saw me.

"What's your name?" Mr Brunner spoke with a low baritone, reminding me of my father's Elvis Presley albums charging out of a vinyl player.

"Jason. Jason Grace."

"Well, 'Jason, Jason Grace', you can take the seat at the front. Excuse my upfront manner but I'm wary of newcomers. We're not a class of slackers so I won't have you dozing off or doodling. If I _do _find yourself occupied in anything other than the lesson, it's out of my class. Understood?"

I nodded soundlessly and hastily scooted over to an empty front seat. This Mr Brunner meant _business. _"Very well," Mr Brunner said, commencing the class with a clap. "Everybody, quiet down."

Surprisingly, the soft buzz of chatter sharpened into the palpable silence of nobody talking. Everybody sat in their seats, upright and alert, waiting for Mr Brunner's lecture. I looked around. Holy shit. I haven't seen any class so focused before in my lifetime. It was like Mr Brunner had the magic touch or something.

"This year we'll be focus primarily on coming-of-age novels, also known as _Bildungsroman_\- the correct literary term I all expect you to refer to while writing essays. Bildungsroman focus on themes of the shattering loss of innocence, a protagonist's journey from child into adulthood, changing perceptions of the world the character is in as they grow- it's character development but in a story format. Some of the greatest examples have transcended into classics. For example: _To Kill A Mockingbird _by Harper Lee, a novel that every American should read at least once in their life"- _Done, _I thought, remembering the beautiful novel I digested when I had to squeeze in a thirteen over a trip from New York to London- "and a more recent one would be _The Perks Of Being A Wallflower_ by Stephen Chbosky." Brunner paused to scan the room, making sure he still held our attention- which he did- before resuming, "The one we'll be studying this term is a legendary classic, of which I'm sure you've heard of, one of the greatest novels that has never been turn into a movie so if you're planning on slacking off on reading the book and watching the movie to write your essay, there goes your escape hatch. It is"- Mr Brunner paused again for dramatic effect- "Catcher In The Rye."

"Oh!" I heard somebody gasped in the back, somebody primarily female. "That's such a _good _book."

"Yes, Lou Ellen," Mr Brunner's piercing brown eyes focused on the girl who spoke. I turned and saw the brunette blushing when Mr Brunner called her out, "It is a good book. You're lucky I agree with you. If not, you'll find yourself in detention for speaking out of turn. One more time and you won't be so lucky."

"Yes, Mr Brunner," Lou Ellen replied meekly.

"Wonderful," a fleeting smile twisted Mr Brunner's hardened, stoic features. "Now before we start on the novel, I would like to get a grasp on the students of our class. Especially since it's a new year. We'll do this by introducing ourselves and our favourite books. You can tell a lot about a person by their favourite book. Let's start with the front row. Miss Gardner?"

A girl with wispy brown hair stood up. "Um, I'm Katie Gardner and my favourite book is _Anne of Green Gables _by Lucy Maud Montgomery."

"A nostalgic choice," commented Mr Brunner, "I assume it was something you read as a child?"

Katie nodded and sat back down. The class went on like this for a while. From my general observations, favourites tend to range from the classics from Jane Austen to all-time children memories like Harry Potter. When it suddenly got to me, Mr Brunner faced me with a pair of austere brown eyes and crossed arms, like I automatically got on his bad side already.

"Mr…"

"Grace," I lightly finished for him, not wanting to piss him off anymore. "Jason Grace. And my favourite book is...1984 by George Orwell."

Surprise stitched itself on Mr Brunner's expression. "Really?" he asked, circling me with a look that was less intimidating than the one before but still pretty freaking terrifying. I nodded obligatorily, hoping not to get struck by the invisible lightning bolt. "Interesting choice. Sit down, Jason."

The class was pretty standard stuff from then on. After the introductions, Mr Brunner went on to explain the usual recurring themes of a coming-of-age novel, a _Bildungsroman_, as he referred it to but I said 'coming-of-age' novel because it's less mispronunciation-prone, thus less embarrassing. He continued by explaining how coming-of-age novels were heavily centered based on a protagonist's character development, either through age or certain events. I found it all very fascinating and scribbled it onto my notebook, hanging by a thread to catch every word he said. The rest of the class did the same. But pretty soon, the bell rang, signalling the end of fourth period and the start of lunch, much to my disappointment.

"So how was that?" Rachel Dare asked as we exited out of the class. "You just got your first taste of Mr Brunner."

"That was...intense," I exhaled, "He's...not what I was expecting."

"I know right?" Rachel Dare's green eyes brightened, "He's a fucking genius. A bit strict but hell…"

I nodded along distractedly because as the students buzzed, talking and walking as they made their way to the lockers. Despite being hardened criminals and known troublemakers, the Wilderness School was okay- almost like a normal high school. It was more normal than the stupid private schools where everybody had LSD pills and Mary Jane hidden in their Gucci and Prada or the teachers were super strict Catholic devouts who believed shorts above the knees was a damnation straight to hell.

In the midst of the class exchange, I spotted Piper lounging by her lockers, surrounded by a fervent knot of girls all trying to put out for her attention but she barely registered them. She just continued to take out her books from her locker, with one earphone hanging from her pierced earlobes. She turned and closed her locker and at that moment, our gazes met. Then she averted her eyes away from mine, noticeably avoiding me as she struck a conversation with Lacy.

My breath hitched. There was so many things I wanted to say. So many goddamn things. But I don't know where to begin.

"...and Mr Brunner was like, _bitch get out of my..._Jason?" Rachel prompted.

"Yeah?" I absentmindedly mumbled.

"You're going to walk into a wall."

My attention span snapped back to Earth and I saw a looming white wall with signboards advertising all the extracurriculars. "Oh right," I sheepishly stepped out of the way. "I was just-"

"Gawking at Piper?" Rachel raised her bushy red eyebrows.

"Um…"

"Look, it happens- okay?" laughed Rachel, "It happened with Leo too. She's like that; she makes you think you have it with her but you really don't."

"What do you mean?"

"She's like that," explained Rachel, repeating herself. "She'll be all over you one minute and the next you're history."

I swallowed, hoping it all isn't true. "But maybe I'm-"

"Different?" laughed Rachel sarcastically, "That's what they all think before she eats them alive."

* * *

"Yo, heads up."

I felt something hit me in the back of the head. It landed with a very solid _thump _onto the floor and it wasn't heavy and it didn't hurt, but it distracted me from memorizing the properties of the Watson and Crick's double helix DNA model as Leo strode in. I turned around in my chair and saw a stash of ground-up leaves on the floor and picked it up.

"What is this?"

"Weed," Leo casually responded, "So don't go shouting it out loud, eh?"

I suddenly regarded the bag like it was some sort of ticking time bomb. "Um…"

"Relax," Leo said with that trouble-making smile of his, "We'll never get caught- we're not _that _stupid." Leo snatched the bag of from me and locked the door so nobody could come in. Then he jumped onto the bed and rolled out some hash, spreading it onto a white paper and proceeded to roll it properly into a joint. There was a flicker of a flame from Leo's green bic lighter and smoke began to emit from the tip.

I watched the door, waiting for the teachers to burst in and bust us. I tried to think about a various bunch of ideas to weasel out of trouble but nothing happened, thankfully. I nervously scratched my head and Leo laughed, puffs of smoke rolling off his mouth as his lips parted.

"You're such a noob," remarked Leo, "The teachers won't catch us. Here, take a hit."

"I- uh-" I was staring at the lit joint as the ignited sparks seemed to bore it's gaze into me. I've never really done anything particularly rebellious, mostly because smoking weed and underage drinking never appealed to me. For one, it's stupid. You're fucking up your future for one good hit of pleasure and that never made sense to me. Two, could you be more cliche? Really? A teenager, smoking and drinking? I refused to fall in my own stereotype- but it was then I figured, why not? What could I possibly lose? My hand curled around the smoking joint and I placed it on my lips, tasting the woody smell rise up my throat.

It caused my eyes to explode in front of us, like explosions you see on tv, and my head reeled, the lights going off in my head. "_Whoa," _the drugs elicited me to say. "Holy fuck."

Leo laughed, "Dude, don't hog the whole thing. Pass it over."

So basically I abandoned DNA and genetics to smoke weed. Was I disappointing my mother now? Leo and I began talking about random crap, like the new Star Wars movie, how shitty the morning runs were and before I knew it, we were talking about Piper.

"Rachel told me you dated her."

Fucking hell, Jason. _Really? _

Leo chuckled, slightly buzzed from that thousand-miles look he had in his eyes. "Yeah, I did," he said wistfully, like he was thinking of better memories. "But that ended, of course. I mean it's _Piper Mclean." _

"What's the deal with her? I mean, why am I so-"

"Obsessed with her?" voiced Leo. "It's just her, y'know. She does that, makes her all obsessed with her and then kill you after that. You have to just wash her out of your head."

I placed the joint in between my lips and inhaled the smoke deep into my lungs, then exhaled with a sign. The cloud of smoke ghosted in front of my face. "Sounds like you're speaking from experience."

Leo twiddled the joint in his fingers. "Yeah, I dated her for a while."

"Really?" I watched his face for any emotion. Pain crossed his face, tightening it.

"Yeah. It was...I don't know." Leo blew out a halo into the our dorm. Now everything in our room seemed as the world was cloak in a veil of white blue. Leo was staring blankly into the ceiling when he decided to speak again, back on the bed, lying down straight and tall: "It was good, I guess. She's crazy and weird. I mean, whenever we fuck, we were high on E and morphine and half of the time, we were buzzed and when I told her I loved her, she ignored me for a whole week until she decided to break up."

"Jesus."

Leo sat upright again and stared at me. "Look, I _know _you like Piper and I get it: she's pretty, popular, she sells pretty good drugs but...she's not worth it, not at all. Don't get yourself in when you know she's just going to burn you."

Everybody was telling me to get out before I was in too deep.

And I wanted to but I don't think I had much of a choice at this point.

* * *

**dude don't you think the song 'gasoline' by halsey fits Piper?**

**holy shit IT DOES.**

**OMG. YES.**

**DUDE. **

**ahem, please review. anyway, there's gonna be a SHIT TON OF DRUGS IN THIS STORY.**

**should it be rated m or t?**

**oh well.**


	8. Cheap Thrills

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS.**

**also, don't do drugs kids. **

Chapter 8

Cheap Thrills

_Piper Mclean_

"So you just _drop _him?" Lacey repeated for what felt like the third time. She was still starstruck over Jason Grace's baby blue eyes and American good-looks. "How could you do that? Jason was so cute…"

I shrugged, slightly annoyed at the shock and the repetition. Really, by now they should know. "Because I'm bored," I sighed, running my hands through my greasy hair. I should wash it sometime soon. "And I can't be bothered with good little boys who can't make me cum."

Tess- a girl in my dorm- let out a sharp laugh from the corner as she passed the joint to Robyn, who smirked and grinned when Tess shook her head at me. "You heartless bitch."

"I know." The most painful part about this, I guess you could say, that it's true and it's the only thing that I ever found clarity in. I was heartless and that was the only thing I could ever be. The best part about stealing hearts was not having one yourself.

* * *

On Friday, the Aphrodite Girls wanted a party. Or more, specifically a chance to be bigger sluts than they already were with an excuse due to being drunk and high on whatever drugs I could score from Lit, my slightly pedophilic drug dealer whose real name is- and I shit you not- Lityerses. If he wasn't such a massive pervert on underage girls, I might've felt sorry for him on the basis of having shit enough parents to name you that.

Anyway, so there was going to be a party on Friday and generally, since I'm a fun person and an expert partier, the responsibility of throwing it fell on me. I contacted Lit as always and already about five people told me to order from him. It's like it was a pre-deposited upon them that if it was a party thrown by me, everybody knows that they'll be on something.

If not everything.

Anyway, on Thursday, I skipped Econ to go meet Lit by Argus's Hippie Hideaways. It was always shockingly easy to sneak off campus in the middle of the day. Festus, the security guard, liked me so he kept his mouth shut for me every time I waved at him. He gave me that condescending look and say, "Off to stir trouble again, Mclean?" but it was all in a joking manner. I smiled and smirked, winking, replying with a:

"You know it, Fest."

"Alright, be safe, don't die, come home early and don't get pregnant."

I loved him. If I ever decided to become monogamous, I would choose Festus in a heartbeat. I saluted him and walked a few more paces towards the road, then flagged down an Uber towards Quartzite to meet Lit.

Lit was by the bar on his fifth beer, smoking on those annoying e-cigarettes when I arrived- big surprise. He bequeathed me with a warm smile when he saw me emerging from the front door and leeringly without any subtlety, scanned me up and down. I know boys like Lit- well-acquainted with them. He was the type of boy who invite girls two years younger than him to hang out considering I was only fourteen when I first met him. He used them and throw them away but as long as he kept me saturated with enough drugs to fly me high as a kite, I'm fine with being used by him.

Because I used him right back.

"Hey babe," he greeted, patting on the empty barstool next to him. "How are you?"

I rolled my eyes, "My name isn't _babe."_

"Right, sorry," he smirked. "_Babe."_

"Shut the fuck up, Lit," I snapped, taking the seat next to him. "I'm on a schedule so just passed me the bag."

"Without even a kiss?" His hands flew to my thigh, playing with the hem of my short shorts- the same short shorts my dad said made me look like a hooker, which was precisely why I loved them.

"Just show me the goods and we'll see."

"Alright, follow me." He stood up from his seat, chugged down the last of his beer and held my hand, leading me towards the bathroom. The bathroom was dingy from the dim, flickering lightning, bathing the room in a mustard yellow tint that painted the worn walls, decorated with Sharpie graffiti, cracked mirrors, broken sinks and a dirty, grimy floor with mould on the green-blue tiles, littered with condoms, tissue papers, scraps of notes, et cetera.

Lit pulled out a baggy and handed it to me. Inside was several ziplock bags- one containing different coloured pills with butterflies, smiley faces carved into them, the other with glistening shining power and another with chopped brownish-green leaves. I smiled, satisfied. The kids are gonna love me for this.

"How much for all?"

"For you, twenty-five percent off so three hundred."

My dad, Mr Tristan Mclean- the hotshot movie star- recently just upped my allowance to bribe me in staying out of the tabloids so I easily forked over three hundred dollar bills.

"You know, I realize- you never gave me coke before," I mused, pulling the ziplock containing the powder. I shook it and watch the white dust sprinkle all over to the side.

"Yeah," Lit grinned, "Got a new supplier."

"He's sick," I noted, smelling the leaves slightly and earning a bit of a dizzy headache.

"If you got time," Lit touched my wrist, "I have a bag for you to have a first try- free of charge."

"I can't," I shook my head, "I got to get back to school sober."

"Never stopped you before."

I sighed as he began to dump the white powder onto the sink and start to separate them into six lines with his driver's license. I probably shouldn't but the temptation pulled me in. I leaned my head against the wall, hands numb, and tilted my head up, watching him roll up one of the hundred dollar bills I gave him and snort a line up.

When he finished, he rubbed his nose and offered me the bill with cocked eyebrows. Secretly, I hoped I wasn't too fucked when I returned back to school. I don't think I could deal with another angry thirty seconds phone call from my dad about being high in class again and trying to cut the teacher's hair with a ruler while high.

I snatched the bill and I snorted it up just as easily. Together, we took turns to go and within ten minutes, the high started to kick in. The senses blurring together and I was tasting all sort of sounds, my annoyance melting away into manufactured happiness. I was seeing colours and visions exploding before me.

"Holy _shit," _I gasped, head pressing on my temples, nails digging. I giggled. It sounded high-pitched and false, unlike my real laugh. "That's- that's _good…_"

"I know." Lit's grin widened when his hand suddenly slid onto my waist and pulled me close. Lit was pretty cute, if you ignore the bad pickup lines and overall lecherous attitude, and I didn't mind the closeness between our bodies. He pressed me against the bathroom wall and kissed me without any permission. The cold tiles on my skin as his hands roamed around my thighs, skin touching skin. I didn't like the feel of his lips. It was too rough, too chapped, stale with Stella's beer and peach-scented e-cigarette vapour. It was nothing like Jason's kisses, nothing like how his soft lips molded into mine.

_Fucking Jason, _my mind screamed, trying to fight the drugs in my system. Why was I thinking about him? I'm trying to distance myself...I needed _to. _

Suddenly, I ripped myself from Lit's claws, hands thrusting him away from my body and his lips flying from my jaw, freeing me from succumbing into more stupid decisions.

"What the _fuck, _Piper?"

"I'm not in the mood," I snapped, breathing hard, gasping, heart rushing. I hopped off the sink and collapsed, using the metal tap as something to balance on.

"You're high as fuck right now," Lit said, trying to stop me from leaving, using his body weight to station himself in front of me, reaching out to cup my face but I shielded it with my hands, clumsily swatting him off as I staggered and tried to take a step but stumble. "That's why you don't want-"

"No, fuck off," I said, regaining my balance by using the sink as a makeshift cane. The world began to swirl around me. Every sense is heightened. Lit had a pimple on his temple, bright red and on the verge of bursting, somebody wrote _linda wuz here _on the corner of the mirror in front of me and everything hurts, my mouth licking colours and ears bombarded with visions. "I...I need to get to school."

Lit's large hand enclosed on my wrist, attempting to comfort me but his touch felt like poison. I flinched. "Let me take you home."

"No," I choked out, "Go away now."

"You're fucked, Piper, you can't-"

I wrenched my hand from him. "Watch me."

I clutched the baggie tight in my hand and fled the bathroom without another word.

* * *

The high still had my hands shaking when I used it to dial for an Uber and they were still shaking when the Uber driver walked me into the school's entrance, not trusting me to make it across the hot Nevada land in one piece in this messed-up state.

I dashed back into the school's compound just in time for lunch. I checked the time displayed on the screen on my phone. It was lunch. I skillfully blended in with the crowds flooding the school's halls, which was buzzing alight with aimless chatter and giggles. I decided I would head upstairs to my dorms, stashed the drugs somewhere safe, lie down and wait for the dizzy high to seep from my system.

I made my way towards the dorm circle, avoiding the prying eyes of the other kids as they saw me hobbling down like a old man, hand on the walls to stop me from tripping over myself.

I wasn't looking in front of me when I felt my shoulders bumping into something. I almost fell, my legs liquefied, and the baggie dropped from my hands, clattering on the floor with a terrifying _thump!_. "Piper?"

The voice jarred me into reality. Jason. My fucked vision was swimming but his eyes were still so irrevocably when they regarded me in slight concern. He picked up my baggie and my heart went into a cardiac arrest of what he might see if he pulled it open. I grabbed the baggie from him, snatching it, and said, "That's _mine."_

"Piper, did you say 'that's nine'?"

My head was throbbing. I need some Tylenol or some shit. I needed to lie down. _Now. _I was willing to ignore Jason and walked past him but when I shifted weight onto my legs, they promptly fell apart like legos.

"Whoa, _Piper." _Strong arms enveloped around me. "Are you okay?"

"Yo, Jase! Wait up for...why are you holding Mclean up like that?" Just right then, Leo Valdez chose the most annoying time to show up.

I tripped and mumbled, "Piss off, Valdez," before proceeding to stumble back down again with Jason to catch me every time I fall.

"Are you fucking high, Mclean?" he questioned with a harsh sigh, bending down to examine my face. "Of course you are, your eyes are the size of fucking saucers."

"I'm _fine."_

"Get her into her room, Jason," Valdez ordered, helping Jason by grabbing my arm and structuring my arm to be coiled around his neck to hoist my weight up.

"Get _away _from me," I giggled, prying their meaty claws off me, "I can walk myself up…"

"Bullshit, you can't. I'm saving your ass," hissed Valdez, breath hot on my cheeks, "If any of the teachers saw you this fucked, you'll be out of here before you know it."

In a concerted effort, they dragged me all the way to the dorm circle, hobbling my unstable state of mind into my dorm. When we arrived to my room, Lacey was in and she frowned when she saw the three of us standing outside of the door, eyebrows arched when she noticed the two boys holding my slumping body.

"What's wrong?" she asked, "It's almost lunch. Shouldn't you be down?"

"She's high," explained Valdez. "She just came in from God knows where; fucked as all hell."

Lacey swore- strange because I never heard the innocent freshmen said so much of a foul word- and ordered the boys to place me on the bed.

"Look, I have cheerleading meeting now," said Lacey, scratching her head, "So can someone stay here and make sure she's okay?"

"I'm fine…" I gurgled, leaning my head onto the pillow as my face looked onwards to the ceiling, eyes closed, sort of in a praying manner as I imagined birds shaped like fireworks exploding in the darkness. Fuck, I was tripping balls.

That coke was strong. As a frequent user, I never really had such a strong high from coke before. The only thing I ever came close to experience this was my first time. Lit probably mixed with something else to give it an extra little kick without telling me. _Asshole. _

"I can't stay here," Leo was arguing, adamantly shaking his head. "It's lunch and I hauled that ungrateful bitch ass all the way here. I ain't missing tacos for _this." _

"Leo," Lacey admonished, exasperated. "Please, not right now."

"I'll stay," Jason quietly volunteered. "I don't mind. You guys go."

All of the sudden, Leo was uncertain. His eyebrows connected. Flickers of emotions waned in his eyes. "You sure, Jase?"

My eyes were shut but I could hear his breathing. I felt his hand landing on my open palm. He was soft like I remembered. "Yeah, I'm sure."

There was a clatter of the door being closed after a while and I assumed that was them leaving. I opened my eyes again, the rooms forming in shades of white, cream and eggshells and Jason sharpening into this caricature of concern for my general well-being. He wore his glasses and his hair was dishevelled but God,b he was cute.

"Why do you care?" I prompted, voice hoarse, crackly, like thin paper flaking. "I was mean to you for a reason."

Jason's lips twitched down, "Piper, it doesn't mean I can't make sure you're okay."

"Can you popped me some ibuprofen? I have some over there."

"I don't think you need anymore drugs," Jason drawled dryly, arms folded. "But I'll go get you some water."

I watched his figure retreat further from me through half-lidded eyes and moved to the table where a water boiler was situated. The sound of him working, the scuffles of moving the water boiler around, the patter of water hitting the boiler's metal end, the sound of water hissing and boiling- like it was alive. Every bit of my senses was accentuated; pushing too much, too loud.

Then he came back, carrying a cup of hot water.

I propped myself up and he placed the cup's rim to my lips, then gently shift it to an angle so the warm water flows into my throat. When I gulped down the last remains of the water, Jason placed the cup back into the sink by the small kitchenette and returned to occupy the seat on the bed.

"Why..." I breathed out, "...are you wasting so much time for me? Don't you get it? I'm not good for you."

He ducked his head and ran a hand down his head. "I heard. But I'm not afraid of you, Piper, and I know what you are. I got the signs and I know what to expect. I made my decision."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," I muttered, dizzy.

"I know."

My eyes shifted to him again. "You're so pretty," I mused, taking in his blonde hair and blue eyes. "Like _so _so pretty."

"You _are _high."

"No, I'm serious. You're like the Barbie boy. What's his name? Ten?"

"Ken."

I giggled, "That's the one. You're like him with twice the brain cells."

Jason chuckled, "You sure you're okay?"

I thumbed the pillow fringe that lay on my arm. "Stop asking me that. I'm fine."

"You're humming _It's a Barbie World. _Are you sure?"

I smirked, "It's in my head now. Also, I'm having a party tomorrow."

"No thanks."

"Oh babe, you don't know what you're missing," I said, still smirking, not affected by his rejection. After all, I'm numb from everything. "It'll be lit. We have Michael Yew on the music and he picks the best mixes and Clarisse and the crew has drinks sorted."

"I have a test on Monday."

"Fuck that."

"What, my future?"

"No, education," I snorted, "It's so fucked. I already have everything I want to know. Now it's time to live life. I'll study when I'm old and nobody cares about me anymore."

Doubt conflicted on Jason's features, clouding and plaguing him like a storm. "I'm not sure."

"Well, look at this- you party on Friday, study on Saturday and Sunday. Besides, I trust you to be sober enough to take care of everybody else. We don't need people running off into the desert and getting lost, thinking it's a paradise island."

"Jesus," whistled Jason, stunned.

I nodded and spoke: "Exactly. So you in?"

* * *

**so yeah I'M BACK. **


	9. Where The Wild Things Are

**DISLCAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS.**

**also, again, don't do drugs.**

Chapter 9

Where The Wild Things Are

_Jason_

"Yo, Jase, ready?"

Leo's curly head of hair popped into the bathroom as I splashed my face with water and sprayed on some deodorant.

"Yeah," I nervously rubbed my wet hands onto my jeans. I know it was rather effeminate to worry about one's appearance but I wondered if my attire was appropriate for a high-school party. As you might've guessed, my experience with teen parties was extraordinarily limited.

It was mainly because nobody really ever invited me to those parties but it never appealed to me. What? I'm serious. Would you like to fail your classes, ruin your future- all for some drunk weekends and plausible hookups?

But I felt like the people who party here was different. Back in my old school, those who went out and did all sort of things were the rich burnouts that you know would always rely on their parents trust funds to clean them up and here, the kids seemed to be like the type I should stay away from and the type your mothers told you to watch out for but for some messed-up kids, they were actually pretty damn smart.

"I'm done," I announced, coming out. I switched off the lights of the bathroom.

"Finally," grumbled Leo, who was playing _Candy Crush _on his phone. He hopped off his bed and locked the dorm door, then push himself into a position on the floor with his belly facing on the ground and rummaged under his bed for something- I didn't know what- and pulled it out.

It was a vodka bottle, half empty, flecked with some dust bunnies on the cap.

"How long has it been there?"

"Since the start of the term," Leo admitted loftily with no shame.

"Why is it half empty?"

Leo sheepishly smiled, "Boredom has a funny effect on people but anyway, I like to believe a shot before a party is the only way to go but since I'm too broke for shot glasses-" Leo's smile turned wicked, "-we'll drink from the top."

With an assured confidence, Leo unscrewed the cap and tipped the bottle down, swallowing a large gulp. He winced at the taste and wiped his mouth, grimacing.

"Your turn."

I gripped the bottle, removing it off him. "I thought I'm gonna be sober to take care of you."

Leo shot me a look, something that went along the lines of _are you fucking with me, _"One shot wouldn't kill you."

Oh God. I took a deep swallow of the vodka, feeling the drink burning down my throat. "Ugh," I groaned.

"That's it," Valdez patted me on the back and retrieved the bottle from me. "Now let's get this party started."

* * *

It baffled me how they got away with a party in full-swing in a boarding school full of delinquents but according to Leo, they never been in trouble for it before. You see, the teachers didn't stay on campus during weekends. They go back to their homes on Friday afternoon to visit their families and spend time with their kids so the government hired a team of matrons to take care of kids during the weekends. The team of matrons were corruptible and some of the painfully rich kids here had no problem shelving the money to pay them off to keep their mouths shut about the things that go on.

When Leo and I arrived, despite the early hour, some of them were already drunk from the looks of it. A good majority was dancing as the speakers plugged to extension cables blasted a remixed version of Flor Rida's _GDFR. _The girls were swaying their hips sensually, moving their shorts-cladded bottoms to the bass drop, while boys held onto those hips and the crowd gyrated to the energy of the song. It looked like some sort of Nevada desert rave. There was a table located slightly further, which was littered with a big collection of booze and Michael Yew- the self-appointed DJ- had headphones on with a makeshift DJ EDM set and he was spinning pretty hard, feeling the vibrating, techno beat pumping into the sweet desert air.

Leo led me to the table where the boss was kept and began pouring two cups of what looked to be rum and coke. "Cheers," he bumped their red cups of the concoction and drank it. I took a sip of my drink. I didn't taste much of the alcohol so it was easier to drink.

Percy and the group were smoking up- or more specifically Thalia, Nico, Clarisse and Piper were passing a joint between each other, which shocked me considering I didn't think Thalia would allow Piper to be anywhere near her or me.

"Hey," Piper greeted brightly, blowing a column of white smoke out in the air and then passing the rolled-up joint to Niko. Piper stood up from the plastic seat and enveloped me in a hug, then Leo. "You made it. I thought you said no."

"It took a while for me to convince him," grinned Leo, "But then I mentioned how the probability of getting laid was much higher and he was all for it."

"Of course, you did," snorted Annabeth, who waved away the smoke when Nico accidentally blew it to her face.

"That's my baby brother, guys," said an exasperated Thalia, who refused the joint this time, and frowned at me, "I can't tell you to go back, can't I?"

"_Guys, shhh!" _Piper interrupted, jerking up from her chair excitedly, "This is my favourite song!"

A new song was being played over the ear-splitting speakers and Piper was bobbing her head up, one hand in the air, "_Eat, sleep, rave, repeat," _Piper chanted, hopping out of her chair, "Jason, come on and dance with me!"

"Um…"

Piper didn't even let me say yes or no before she dragged me to the sandy floor where the crowd was at.

"Everybody, keep your hands in the air!" Michael Yew yelled in the mic. Jesus, how did anyone not find about this? "And jump!"

Piper had both hands in the air, full out raving when the beat dropped, head shaking, hips swivelling, her low-cut top almost bursting and her shorts rid up. She reached into her pocket and extracted out a magenta pill with a butterfly imprinted into it.

"What the fuck is that?" I asked with my mouth pressed to her ear so she could hear me.

This close to her I could smell her vanilla 'n' weed perfume. I study the outline of her lips when she smirked, the details of her face ever-present. "Molly," she whispered back, "Want one?"

I swallowed nervously. The alcohol from a few seconds ago struck a sudden headache in my head. "I…" I looked as she placed the pill in her mouth, then washed it down with the rum and coke in her hand.

"Hey, need more booze?" a random schoolmate of ours yelled, grinning widely.

"What are you offering?" giggled Piper, coiling an arm around the boy's neck affectionately like he was a long-lost friend and kissing the boy on the cheeks.

"Vodka," the guy smirked at her.

"Why not?" She held up her cup and he poured at least half of the bottle's content into her drink. She saw me awkwardly standing in a bumping group of grinding teenagers and shook her head, laughing. "Jason, baby, dance."

"This is not my scene," I told her and she laughed harder. Was she already high?

"Loosen up," she advised, smiling, and turned so her back faced my front. She guided my hands and placed it on her hips and she began moving so I followed her lead. "Have some," she handed me her cup. "You have good reason to get drunk."

At some point, a part of me said _fuck it _and gulped the whole thing down. "Hey, about that pill…" I trailed off, turning her around like a gentleman, and she smirked.

"Yeah?" she pressed her hand on my chest as the world seemed to fade from us. Her smile was a glistening red one with teeth showing. I swear some of them looked like vampire teeth. "You want one?"

My brain was fearful of what could happen but my heart beat the curiosity to try. I nodded wordlessly and her fingers slipped into her pocket, pulling out a turquoise one with a smiley face. She gently brushed the pill against my lips. I parted my mouth and the pill landed on my tongue. It tasted like sugar.

A few minutes later, I danced better than I ever did and I was seeing colours and tasting sounds and the world seemed painted in this effervescent brightness, overly saturated in its colour. The neon pink tank top Piper wore seemed to glow brightest in the world and her skin practically gleamed with moonlight. I hated EDM usually, but I found myself enjoying the simplistic, repetitive beat gunning from the speakers, which was blasting its own remixed version of _Get Low._ The sky was littered with stars staring down at us. A low desert breeze ruffled us. I felt Piper clasp her hands around her neck, intertwining her fingers as she danced with me. Without permission or fear, with a feeling of invincibility in my veins, I pulled her close and kiss her. This was the best feeling in the world.

Our mouths were meshing and she pulled out of the kiss, giggling, drinking the vodka and by then, we have progressed from drinking out of the cup to drinking out from the bottle. "Chug," demanded Piper with a twinkle of a giggle, pushing the tip into my mouth, and I opened my mouth wide, swallowing a huge chunk of vodka in. I winced and gasped when it elicited the adrenaline to pump even faster and Piper's scream of happiness was just a shout in the wind as she gripped me by the neckline of my shirt and kissed me again.

When we broke apart to take another drink, that was when we see five people looking at us.

Percy and Thalia and Nico and Leo and Annabeth.

_Fuck me._

"Jason?" prompted Thalia, face cloudy.

By then, I wondered what it was like to be in trouble but by then I was numb enough say _fuck it. _

I laughed but it came out like a thin giggle and tried to catch a lime green colour coming at me.

"Shit," Thalia swore and glared at Piper, who was dying from laughter at me swatting at the air for colours in my head. "Is he fucking high, Mclean?"

"Thals, I'm _not! CHIll!"_

"Did he just said 'dill'?" Leo's eyebrows furrowed.

"I'll take that as a yes," sighed Annabeth, who grabbed my arm, and inspected me. Like a doctor, she stared me in the eye and pushed two fingers onto the nape of my neck. Her fingers were cold and ran a shiver down my neck. "His eyes are dilated, pulse rising extremely fast."

Thalia pushed Piper off me, forcing her to stumble and causing her to lose her control of the bottle, which fell onto the sand and inexplicably shattered. "What the _fuck _did you give him?" she screamed at Piper.

"Thals, don't!" Percy tried to intervene but Thalia was mad.

"You stay away from my brother!" raged Thalia and punched Piper in the face, then grabbed me and dragged me away. I flinched at the force of her strength.

"Thalia, please-"

"No, Jason," barked Thalia, "I refuse to let you talk to her. I'm taking you back to your dorm."

"No, I don't want to. I want to stay here and-"

Thalia's features blurred together due to my intoxication but her blue electric eyes were still clear and seething in rage, like fired-up sapphires burning in the embers. "Jason, you can't. Okay? Any more and you'll get addicted and fuck up your future…"

"It's _my _future and it's _my _choice…"

"I'm doing what's good for you," countered Thalia, lips pursed, hips jutted out as she ushered me far away from the party.

But then everything started to mesh together and a haze hung over the blur and I slumped down, unconscious.

* * *

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's just sleeping."

"Oh, okay. Well, tell me when he wakes up."

The eyelids of Jason's right eye peeled itself open, the skin splitting itself apart for colours to chase away the darkness behind those lids. Leo was sitting at his desk, tapping away at his laptop, working on his American History paper when he saw my mass of messy blonde hair and white skin stirring from my bed, muttering '_fucking hell' _under his breath.

"So he awakes," announced Leo. "It's Saturday afternoon. You slept through the morning."

"I feel like shit."

"Yeah, it's called a come-down. Happens when you take molly."

I rubbed my eyes, suddenly feeling this huge weight of sadness sit on my heart. "Is there anything I can do about it?"

Leo's hand went underneath the desk he was working on and ripped out an envelope that was taped underneath it. He tossed it towards me, along with his blue bic lighter, and said, "Smoke it up."

When he saw my look of disbelief: "Believe me, it works."

"Yeah, because science says to solve the problem to drugs is more drugs."

"See, you're all moody now. Smoke up and you'll feel better."

I sighed. I spread the leaves on the bedside table and tore the piece of paper into smaller strips, then rolled it into a joint- I see Leo do it more times than I needed to know the basic steps. I placed it to my lips and lit it up. The heat of the smoke travelling into my bloodstream helped balance my serotonin levels and within ten minutes, I started to feel slightly better.

"I think I'm gonna head out for a while," I told Leo after I packed it up and taped it back underneath the desk for him.

"Where?"

"Places."

"Jase, your sister is pissed and believe me, as your roommate, if you go find Piper now, she'll skin me alive."

"She doesn't have to know."

Leo snorted, "Funny how this is coming from _you._"

"I just want to apologise to Piper," I said, "For what happened with Thalia."

"So you _do _remember what happen."

Of course, I do."

Leo sighed and said, as if he was going against his better judgement: "Fine but be back soon, okay?"

"Okay."

I slipped out of my dorm and into the hallway, which was mulling with trickles of students walking in and out, exchanging small talk between dorms. Most of them were recovering, wearing shades indoors and nursing hangover headaches while gossiping about _everything _that happened the night before.

It wasn't hard to find Piper when I didn't see her at her dorm. She was by the benches behind the school, secluded with fences and cactus, smoking and drinking out a bottle of Jack while reading a heavy leatherbound book and scrawling furiously in it.

"You're still drinking?"

I startled her as she jumped slightly when her eyes flickered upwards. There was a splotch of purple and blue surrounding her right eye and I realised that must be the bruised eye Thalia punched yesterday. She smiled that enigmatic smile of hers, lips twisting into a half-smirk and half-smile of genuine happiness and sly mischief, "I'm always drinking." She patted on the empty space beside her, "I'm 96% not sober all the time."

"How are you still alive?"

"I ask myself the same question every day," she blew smoke out and continued scribbling into the leatherbound book.

"What are you doing?"

"Philosophy."

"Oh, okay."

"Yeah, I'm reading a collection of works from Greek philosophers- like Socrates and Aristotle, who is, by the way, ninety-nine percent wrong on everything."

"Oh, okay. How come?"

"I'm trying to find some flaws in their logic and there are plenty. Especially the ones about God since they all seem to think there is one."

"You're Atheist?"

"I hadn't notice," she gestured to the bottle lying comfortably on her lap and the cigarette in between her fingers, "But yeah. I guess I mean, I'm baptised Catholic and shit but I haven't been to a church in, like, the last ten years."

I smiled, "Yeah, same. I mean, I'm not Atheist but I'm not religious or anything."

"Good because religion is such a human travesty," she stomped, "I mean, like if there was anything more unnecessary than Donald Trump running for president and Kanye West's fashion label, it's religion."

"For someone who's 96% drunk of the time, you're pretty impassioned."

She shrugged, "Better than fighting for nothing."

She had a point.

"I'm sorry by the way," I said, "For Thalia."

"It's fine."

"Does it hurt?"

"It did but it's okay now," she touched her eye. "So Jase, other than checking up on me, what brings you to my humble abode?"

"I just want to make sure you aren't mad at what Thalia did," I explained, "She can be a bit overprotective."

"A bit?" repeated Piper, "Look, it's none of my business but maybe you need to tell her that you don't really need it anymore. I mean, you're seventeen not seven and you can make your own decisions."

"I know," I fidgeted uncomfortably, "But she means well."

"Yeah, I know she does," Piper rolled her eyes, tapping her cigarette to release the ash building up on the tip. "I'm just saying stop making excuses and stop letting her control you. It's your life to fuck up, not hers, and maybe you need to tell her that. It's about damn time you start living for yourself and not other people because that's the only way you'll ever really be happy."

She had a point.

* * *

**please review! they make me happy. 3**


	10. I Hear That You Like The Bad Girls

**DISCLAIMER: I NEVER OWNED PJO. NEVER DID. NEVER WILL. **

Chapter 10

"I Hear That You Like The Bad Girls"

_Piper_

_It's you, it's you, it's all for you_

_Everything I do, I tell you all the time._

I swayed my head to the song playing on Lacey's iPod dock. Lana Del Rey's _Video Games _whistled it's sweet melody as I stared at the ceiling above me, slightly stoned, and counted the _yous _in the chorus. Images in my head flood in and I couldn't help but think about what it was like to love someone so much that everything you do was dedicated to loving that person, loving someone so much that it consumed your every fibre and loving someone so much their name becomes an incantation only spoken for the darkest, most sacred moments. I wondered what it was like to be happy and so full of merriment and content.

I wanted to remember a time when I used to be like that- when I used to give my heart as easily as I took others away but my memory couldn't trail to a day when I wasn't as fucked in the head as I was now.

Out of the sudden, my phone rang. I peeled myself from the bed, feeling the blood rush down from my head to the rest of my limbs, and reached out to the bedside table to see who it was.

_Dad._

Fuck me.

"Hello?" I growled into the phone, expecting Jane that pesky assistant of his.

"Piper." It was actually my dad calling. The sound of his voice tinged a familiarity of home and I wondered what it was like to have a place properly called home.

"What?"

"I'm so sorry, honey, but I think the movie film schedule is going to go on for a few more months so I don't think I'm going to have time to come back for the Christmas break."

My heart sank. Of course, he couldn't. He hadn't been back for Christmas since I was eleven. Was I stupid enough to think this time it'd be different?

"Oh, okay," I tried not to sound disappointed, trying to sound cold, disaffected, mean even.

_Don't cry._

_Don't cry._

_Don't you fucking dare cry._

"I see." I bit the insides of my cheeks, hoping the pain would stop tears from blinking down.

"You don't have to come back for Christmas break if-"

"Yeah, I got it," I barked harshly, squashing the tone of being upset away from my voice. "I'll just crash at a friend's or stay back at school or whatever."

"Okay, well-"

I hung up.

Then I cried.

* * *

"Stay away from my brother."

Thalia Grace stood by the school's back door threshold, glaring at me sitting by my allotted park bench, smoking as usual with a bottle of Jack, my notebook and a copy of _Lolita_ cradled in my lap. In her customary leather shorts, fishnet tights, black tank top, and mountains of chains and silver jewelry, enough to haywire LAX's security systems. Funny enough, there was a time when Thalia and I were the best of friends. We dressed almost the same and we would wreak havoc all over the school, planning parties almost every weekend, getting high together until I, being the fucked kid I was, inevitably fucked it up and now she associated the name 'Piper Mclean' with 'gum underneath my shoe'.

"Sorry?" I snapped out of my reverie, pulling my ass out of my book, and lifted my eyes over to Thalia's short, curvy figure leaning on the door's side, lips pursed, arms crossed, looking pissed as all hell.

"Stay away from my brother," she repeated, clicking her teeth.

"Oh honey," I drawled, smiling sweetly, dripping with saccharine, "That's not my problem. I'm not coming to him, he's coming to me."

"Then ask him to fuck off," snapped Thalia, her anger swelling and growing like the rise in her chest and the sudden dark redness coloured her cheeks. She was never good at keeping cool, lips pursed, eyes beady and narrowed, slanted to the point where they almost looked like slits. Her dark hair was coiled into a top knot and sweat from the desert heat plastered on her skin like a thin sheet of see-through plastic. "I won't let you ruin him. I won't let you do what you did to Luke."

Luke- the name rattled my bones, letting a chill travel down my spine. She spoke his name with an inflection; like it still hurt her every time the word spilled out for her to hear. "Your brother isn't Luke," I said, "And what happened to Luke wasn't my fault. I didn't ask him to do that."

"But you might as well," snarled Thalia, bristling, stepping forward in impassioned anger. "Because you _knew _how much he loved you- and you- you just-"

"It's my choice to make whether I return that love or not," I argued, growing pissed, "It's not my fault he couldn't handle the rejection and decided to swallow a bottle of pills."

"You're a _bitch." _Thalia's hand flashed forward and smacked me across the face. The pain crackled across my face in snap moments, leaving left me staggering in composure, knocking my cigarette out of my lips. Before I could react, I heard her combat boot ringing as she stomped away back into her dorm. I ignored it, brushing her off, and lit up another cigarette as I continued drinking, unaffected by her words.

I was used it, really.

Bitch, they called me. Whore, they called me. For some reason, they seemed to think the words they throw at me might make me feel dead inside.

Too late, bitches.

* * *

Nights in the desert was excruciatingly cold. You think it wouldn't be, seeing as it was the desert. But I remember Miss Demeter explaining something about the heat escaping into space because of how there was no clouds in the desert, that explained the temperature drop.

It was so cold that I spent most of them drinking rather than sleeping in a massive sweater and pyjama pants. I watched the stars come on and go away, I watched the breeze move and dance and blow dust in the wind until there was none left. I drank so the burn of the alcohol chased whatever numbness I feel in my joints but no matter how much I drank, it couldn't chase away the numbness in my heart. I exhaled, the cloud of nicotine exploding in the dark in white mist.

I saw it as the cold and the heat in the desert as being two extremes. The desert in the day was the girl who was too happy, the girl who deluded herself into a fantasy of being happy. Sure, she didn't have much and life generally sucked but she was happy and the world was bright, so bright that it looked like a beach photograph, too saturated and drenched in it's harsh vibrancy. She was in a world of light and warmth and nothing could possibly go wrong.

That girl used to be me.

There was a time when I was sober. Back to the days of my childhood when my mother wasn't a bitch who cheated on my dad and my father found spending time with me a better hobby to do than his stupid Hollywood career, I used to be really happy.

But then my dad found my mother fucking the next door neighbour in the master bedroom, which led to screaming and fighting and of course- a divorce because that was the only way my father could ever look at my mother again without throwing or breaking something.

That happy girl was such a long time ago, I almost forgot she existed once upon a time. That happy girl was Piper Mclean- me, the girl who grew up too fast and way too sad, who realized that friends and relationships and love make everything in life ten times harder so I do everything in my power to get rid of them before they could even touch me.

Because that happy girl knew what love did to people and what people do to people. That happy girl saw it firsthand. After the divorce, Tristan Mclean was never the same. He became depressed and drank and smoke and too much of a fuckup to take care of a little six-year-old girl, crawling into a shell of a human being.

It wasn't until five years down the road, he got clean. He sobered up but the damage was done because the broken one now was me.

I was that happy girl, I guess you can say, who had faded into another extreme. That happy girl, who transformed from day to night, a night so cold you couldn't feel your toes, a cold that freeze everything and leave nothing behind.

And I don't plan on leaving anyone alive.

Not even me.

* * *

"Fuck, she's tanked again."

I stumbled out of the Girls' Bathroom, carrying out a rather inconspicuous green bong from the stall and staggered to the sink. One of the girls from my grade wrinkled her nose at me, an expression of distaste recoiling her features the minute she registered the smell of weed rising from my clothes. But weed wasn't the only thing I took in the last span of thirty minutes after my dad decided to cannonball my hopes of seeing him for Christmas. Sometimes, I wondered if the mixture of pot, ecstasy and cocaine would one day kill me.

Maybe I wanted to die.

"Piss off, Drew," I growled at her and smirked at her friends. "Why don't you mind your own fucking business? What would your boyfriend say if he knew you were fucking Jake Mason in the janitor's closet every Thursday afternoon?"

Drew's face clouded with anger, snarling: "Shut up, you bitch," she hissed, and turned to her group of cronies: "She's lying! I don't even know what she's talking about."

I barked a laughter and smiled viciously at Drew, who quailed as I gripped the bong's handle like a weapon. "I might be a slut or a druggie but at least when I cheat, I'm not afraid to admit to it."

"Go away, Mclean," Drew bristled, "Can't you take it that nobody wants you here?"

_Nobody wants you here. _I don't why I felt everything so deeply. My face remained impassive, unmoved as I jeered and scoffed but every word seemed to break each bone, push the knives into my lungs even deeper. "You're so sad, Drew. I'm so tired of talking to sad people."

_I'm so tired of being sad. _

I began to walk away- not very straight, though, hobbling as I swung the bong messily towards the door but before I could make it there, I fell. The girls laughed at me but I didn't care, just got back up, flashed them the finger without even looking, and head out, hands on my temples, trying to make sense of the colours around me as it all blurred to me.

"Piper, Piper, are you okay?"

_No._

I looked up and saw Jason carrying books, on the way to somewhere- I'm sure. We were in the common room. It was relatively empty and quiet, hollow like my hollow soul. "I'm…" I struggled to enunciate, "fine."

Jason shook his head, his glasses jittering with him, "No, you're not. Come on, I'll take you to your room."

I sighed, laboured, clutching the green bong tight to my still pulsing heart, "You don't have to."

Being the irritatingly Nice Guy Jason he was, he slid his arm around my shoulders and gripped me tight in his arms to support my wobbly legs, which had turned to jelly. He was stronger than his frame let on. I could hear his heart beating and feel his chest rising and falling with a steady pace. "No, I insist."

I wondered how many times he would have to do this- save me out of my own mess.

He gently placed my face on his shoulder, so tenderly as he escorted me up into my dorm, lacing his fingers in between mine for support so gently, so tenderly, like I was glass on the verge of cracking and splitting apart. And I thought how I didn't deserve that sort of tenderness, that gentleness.

I didn't deserve being treated lovingly because, under the haze of medicated wonder, boys like Jason Grace cannot love girls like me.

I couldn't have nice boys like Jason Grace. I couldn't have saints like Jason Grace, because I was the devil in a pretty dress and because I didn't deserve them. I deserved people like Lit, people who pump me with all kind of narcotics and use me for sex and treat me like the piece of shit I was.

I deserve it because I don't deserve to love or be loved and I certainly don't deserve to have Jason Grace loving me.

* * *

**The last part actually hit a massive spot to home because I think that Piper's 'bad-girl' image all dwindles down to the fact that she's a very sad person, who doesn't think she deserves any sort of happiness at all. I feel like that kind of sadness, that kind of self-deprecating thoughts comes from being manic-depressive and that's what Piper is, a mental illness at most and I pray to most the portrayal of that kind of severe depression comes somewhat realistic. **

**Whether she gets better comes from Jason, a support system, because I don't think anybody else would better understand why Piper is the way she is. Reading this while listening to some Lana Del Rey will sure help accomodate the story a little more so :).**

**PLEASE VOTE AND COMMENT!**


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